#it may have taken me five days to respond but i did it
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scent1st · 8 months ago
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been responding to emails lately, feeling very powerful. not gonna let this campus job offer pass me by this time guys
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countingnothings · 1 year ago
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me: governance and operations are separate for some important reasons, like x and y. this is not just the case at our institution, but at any institution that has a board of governors.
students who are trying to get me to intervene in operations: it's very strange that you would say governance and operations are separate! we don't like this, and therefore you must be wrong about it.
both of these students are in the process of phds, which i think is proof that you don't need to have reading comprehension to get an advanced degree in the humanities.
#i spent five days crafting a gentle email explaining my position without commenting on the legitimacy of their accusations against staff#which they took less than 30 minutes to respond to in a very incoherent screed#that conflated 'when i was a student rep to the board i felt that i wasn't taken seriously'#with 'it's weird to say that student reps represent students to the board'#hilariously this guy wasn't taken seriously because he neither showed up to meetings nor had anything substantive to contribute when he did#the one thing of value he contributed was something multiple board members took up and advocated for on his behalf#my email: in reviewing policy we may adopt a multi-stakeholder approach that would include student voices#their email: we think it's horrible that no one ever thinks of student voices! you can't make policy without us!#my email: complaints against the Director of X go to me. complaints against the Principal of Y go to this other guy#their email: we want to launch a complaint against the principal of x#no such position exists but alright then#having heard about the situation in which they have appointed themselves the Voice of the Students from multiple perspectives#including student perspectives#they have no grounds for a formal complaint and in fact have been treated with extraordinary generosity by all the non-students involved#but nobody will promise to adopt the strategy these 2 students think is best#(we're in a stage of policy review for the relevant policies and these students have received multiple promises to duly consider their inpu#but unless i get my way i will continue to throw a tantrum!!!#GPOY#i have been chair of this fucking board for two months.#they are so damn lucky they are not interacting with the previous chair#who would have shut them down immediately and forgotten about it two minutes later
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hannieehaee · 8 months ago
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DOES HE KNOW ?
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.8k
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
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"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.
He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.
As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.
"Fuck off, Lee Chan."
With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.
"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.
You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.
Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.
Yet he wanted you. He was after you.
The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.
Yeah, you did need that second drink.
"Where's your guy?"
Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.
You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.
"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.
"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.
"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.
"And Channie?"
"What about him?"
"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.
Men, nosy as usual.
You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."
"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.
"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."
"But?"
You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"
"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."
"It's- I like the attention."
"And him?", he pressed.
"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.
Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."
"What is?"
"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."
"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.
"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"
"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.
"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."
"My guy's not here."
"I meant Channie, now go!"
You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.
It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.
Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.
You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.
You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.
"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."
Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.
"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.
The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"
The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.
But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.
It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.
And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.
The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.
"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."
"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.
It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.
"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"
Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.
"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.
"Chan-"
He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.
"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"
"It's not like that! I just-"
"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.
"Chan! I-"
"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.
"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.
Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.
"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."
"I do, and-"
"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.
"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.
"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.
You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.
"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.
You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.
"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.
He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.
"What plan?"
"I'm wearing you down. You want me."
Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.
You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?
Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.
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"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"
Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.
You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.
"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.
While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.
"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.
"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"
He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.
"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.
Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.
It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.
Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.
Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.
As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.
~
The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.
You needed to get Chan out of your system.
You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.
Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.
Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.
Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.
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Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.
Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.
You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.
"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.
Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.
"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."
"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.
"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"
"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.
Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.
"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."
"Was it good?"
"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."
"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.
"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.
"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.
"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.
"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"
"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"
"Soonyoung!"
"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.
This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.
Chan had had sex dreams about you too?
I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.
Fuck.
Chan wanted to fuck you.
The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.
"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.
"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."
Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.
God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.
With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.
~
Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.
Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.
Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.
But imagination wasn't enough.
You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.
That's when you thought of the perfect thing.
Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.
No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.
"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"
This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.
"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.
Oh, Channie ...
He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.
You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.
"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."
It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.
"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.
The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.
You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.
Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.
And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.
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"We broke up."
Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.
This time Seokmin had decided to join.
"You what?"
"Because of Chan?"
"Really?!"
All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.
You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.
"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."
It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.
It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.
"Wow," aired Soonyoung.
"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.
"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.
"Does Channie know?"
"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.
"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"
Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"
"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.
"Wait! No, I-"
"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"
"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."
"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."
Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.
"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.
"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.
"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."
"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"
"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.
"I think it'd be hot."
"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.
Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"
Did you? Did you actually like Chan?
Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.
His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.
Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.
"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."
"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"
"No, it's just ..."
"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."
It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.
"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"
"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."
"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.
"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.
"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."
You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.
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Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.
It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.
Fuck, you missed him.
Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.
You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.
It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.
Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.
Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.
He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.
When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.
Yeah, you liked him.
You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.
You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.
But then he started speaking.
"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"
It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.
Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.
After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.
"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."
"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"
"had", you clarified, shy.
"what?"
"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."
"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"
His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.
"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."
Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.
"God, I'm so so sorry-"
"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."
"Y-you ...?"
"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."
He nodded, giving you the green light.
"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."
Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.
"What made you realize it?"
Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.
But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.
"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.
His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.
"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"
"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."
"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"
With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."
"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"
"Chan!"
"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.
"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."
Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.
"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"
"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."
A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.
"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.
Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.
His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.
Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.
But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.
"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."
Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."
He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.
Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.
Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.
He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."
"Channie ..."
"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.
Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.
Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.
"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.
"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."
And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.
Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.
You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.
Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.
"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.
"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.
"Fuck. I get to choose?"
You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.
Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.
"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."
That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.
"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."
"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."
His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.
"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.
Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.
The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.
Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.
"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.
There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.
Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.
Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.
"I love you."
Then the world stopped.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"
It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.
"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.
"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."
He made you laugh, as per usual.
You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.
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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.
wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.
Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.
The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.
It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.
After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.
Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.
Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.
It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.
The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.
It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.
Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.
It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.
Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.
Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.
...
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ariestrxsh · 25 days ago
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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, some fluff, some angst, mommy kink, edging, handjob, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: here are parts one, two, and three to me & u. 💖 thanks for being patient with me while i took so long to get this out, and there will be a part five to this story in the near future.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: while spending time with matt, you start to find out more about his past, which leads to your first disagreement with one another.
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me & u part four
"What if I came and cleaned it up for you with my mouth?" You said in a sultry tone through the phone. You smirked at Matt through the window after you watched him finish using his new sex toy, but he'd already grabbed an old t-shirt and was wiping up the mess he made.
"I'll tell you what. You can clean up the next one," he said in a breathy voice on the other end of the line. "I'd be honored," you replied, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension you were feeling.
"I'd love it if you came over, though. My dad's gone," Matt bit his lip. "What are we gonna do?" You asked him. "Anything you want," he responded. "Anything?" You wondered in a flirtatious tone. "Within reason," Matt chuckled at how dirty-minded you were.
"I'll be over soon," you replied, hanging up the phone and hurrying over to the neighbor boy's house. You let yourself in through Matt's front door, taking in all of the changes that had taken place since you'd last been over.
There were actually kitchen appliances on the counters and portraits on the wall of Matt in his younger years. You smiled, running your fingers along the frames and the glass before making your way up the staircase.
You turned the door knob to Matt's room, and as you swung open the door, he was pulling his zipper closed and still trying to catch his breath. He looked up at you and smiled. "So, what do you think of your new fleshlight?" You teased Matt.
"I think you know what I think," Matt playfully rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you leaned up against his door frame and looked him up and down. "Like is an understatement," he said, taking his toy to his bathroom to rinse it out. "Your house is coming together nicely," you called to him from his bedroom as your eyes glossed over the new additions to his space.
"Thanks. My dad and I had a lot of time to unpack today," Matt called back to you. You sifted through a few vinyls Matt had stored on a shelf beneath his record player. "I didn't know you were a music fan," you told him. "I mean, who doesn't love music?" Matt asked, coming back into the room and studying the way you ran your dainty fingers across his music collection.
"Yeah, but you listen to really good music," you replied, taking a Led Zeppelin album off of the shelf and slipping the record into the player. Traveling Riverside Blues came through clearly on the speaker. "What can I say? I have my dad's taste," he shrugged. You picked up Matt's journal off his desk and started flitting through the pages.
"May I?" You asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, I just came on the phone with you. I don't see why you can't read my journal," Matt chuckled and reached around to rub the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.
There was nothing written for the day the two of you had met, but there was an entry written for the day after. "I met my new neighbor yesterday. She's kind of a slut," your jaw dropped as you read the words on the page and peered up to look at Matt.
"Look, I know that wasn't the nicest way to put it," Matt said, walking towards you, prepared to de-escalate your anger. "Don't worry. It turns me on to be called that," your shocked expression turned to a smirk, and you continued reading the next sentence.
"She's really hot, and she seems to know what she wants. I like that about her. She's nothing like May. Who's May?" You wondered, glancing up from the leather book again. "My ex-girlfriend," Matt timidly told you.
"I didn't know you had dated anyone before," you relayed in a surprised tone. "We dated for about three years, but she's the only girlfriend I've ever had," Matt admitted to you. "Three years? Why'd you guys break up?" You wondered aloud.
There was a moment of silence before Matt answered you. "We ended things because I moved away," Matt said with a somber tone in his voice. Your stomach dropped. "So you guys broke up recently," you replied, fiddling with the leather cover. "Yeah, fairly recently," Matt said.
"So, you're not over her yet? I mean, it would be crazy if you were. It was a three-year long relationship that ended recently," You insinuated, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes.
"I mean, I don't even know what it means to get over someone. I've never had to do it before," Matt said defensively. "Why didn't you tell me about her?" You narrowed your gaze at him.
"It didn't come up, and I was waiting until the right time to tell you," he answered you. "Do you still love her?" You wondered with a hurt look on your face, and Matt stood silently, staring at you for a moment.
You shut off the record player. "It's a simple question, Matthew. Are you still in love with her?" You interrogated him with a bit of anger in your tone now, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We ended things a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to say no?" Matt asked, raising the volume of voice. "Do you guys still talk?" You wondered, taking a step closer to him.
"She texted me last night and asked me how I liked my new house. I was too high to answer her, but I texted her back this morning," Matt hesitantly admitted, shrugging his shoulder and sticking his hands in his pockets.
You didn't want Matt to see you cry, so you spun around without saying another word, bounded down the stairs, and ran out the front door. You headed for your backyard to be alone and collect your thoughts, climbing up the ladder to your treehouse as hot tears started falling from your eyes.
You knew that Matt and May weren't together anymore, but it was the fact that he still had leftover feelings for a girl he'd probably still be dating if he lived in the same state as her. Not only was he still in love with another girl, but a girl that, in his words, was very different from you.
On top of it all, you had always struggled with jealousy in relationships. Your mind raced through the worst-case scenarios. What would happen if Matt went back to visit May, or what if she traveled here to visit him? You wondered if it would change the way he felt about you.
You were wiping your tears with the back of your hand and sniffling when Matt poked his head up from under the treehouse as he followed you up the ladder. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he timidly said, looking at you with his big, blue eyes. "Did I say the wrong thing?"
You wanted to shout at him and tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to say anything to hurt him to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to hide behind your tough facade, secretly afraid to be vulnerable with him, but you couldn't look at him and imagine being mean to him or raising your voice at him.
"I don't want you to be in love with May," you blurted out as you started to sob again. Matt climbed into the shelter with you, his journal in hand, placing it in his lap as he sat beside you, wiping away your tears.
"It's just still fresh. That's all. It was three years, and the reason we broke up was beyond our control, but it doesn't make sense for us to be together, and now that I've met you.." Matt trailed off, rubbing your back.
"Since you met me, what?" You asked softly, lifting your head. "Well, you didn't even finish the journal entry, silly." Matt handed you his leather notebook, and despite your hesitancy to read on and hurt your own feelings worse, you opened it back up to the page you left off on.
"She's nothing like May. The more time I spend around her, the more I realize things I didn't really like about May and my relationship with her. Like how passive she was, how she always kept me guessing about how she felt about me, and the way she never disagreed with anything I said or challenged any of my beliefs," you read aloud.
"Wait, you actually like that I'm disagreeable and direct?" You asked, peering up at him, surprised because those were usually the qualities people criticized you for. "Yeah, those are my favorite things about you. It's refreshing to meet someone like you," Matt told you, looking into your eyes.
"I'm sorry I stormed off," you apologized. "I'm not upset," Matt assured you. "I just wasn't sure whether I was supposed to follow you or not."
You two sat silently for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes, and the magnetic force between you and Matt pulled you each closer to one another until your lips were locked. The chemistry between you both when you'd kiss was undeniable, and you could each confirm that you felt it through your body language in the way your hands would wander, never being able to pull each other close enough.
"Do you wanna get high and go lay on your floor and Iisten to your records?" You asked him, looking into his blue eyes and caressing his face once you pulled back from the kiss. "Sure, but I'm only taking one hit," Matt looked at you, wide-eyed and smiling.
"That's really all you need," you smiled back at him, reaching for your stash and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of a plastic bag. You lit it up, exhaling smoke and watching it dissipate into the air.
"Do you wanna shotgun kiss again?" You asked Matt. "Shotgun kiss?" He reiterated in a confused tone. "Yeah, it's where I take a hit, and then we kiss, and I blow it into your mouth," you smirked at him. He nodded at you, leaning in as you took a drag, the cherry end of the joint glowing and crackling as you gently pulled from it.
Your lips softly brushed up against Matt's, blowing out the weed smoke as he breathed in and gave him a couple of pecks before pulling away. He exhaled, expelling the wispy, grey smoke from his lungs. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Matt laughed in between coughs.
You took a few more hits while you silently stared at the cute boy beside you. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy and the whites of his eyes turned a bit red. "Let's go check out your record collection," you suggested to Matt, nudging him in the arm and putting out the joint.
The two of you descended the ladder as the sun sank lower below the horizon, leaving behind a bright orange sky in its wake. You followed Matt's silhouette out your gate and back over the path that led to his house.
You found yourself lying on Matt's giant rug in the middle of his room while he laid his head next to yours but had his feet pointed in the opposite direction. You both stared up at the ceiling as Riders on the Storm by The Doors came through over the speaker of the record player, sounding textured and crisp.
"Can I stay the night here?" You asked Matt, peering over at him and his glazed over expression. "I don't see why not," Matt shrugged, looking at you wide-eyed. He did want you to stay the night, but he was afraid that you had certain sexual expectations about how the night would go.
"I'm not ready to have sex with you yet," Matt blurted out, searching your expression for a reaction and wondering if he was being too presumptuous by saying that. "That's okay. I understand. Could we maybe do other stuff?" You nibbled on your lip, looking at him hungrily. "I think I'd be okay with that," Matt nervously replied, nodding at you timidly.
The two of you enjoyed your highs a bit longer as The Doors' L.A. Woman album played through its track list until you were both too tired to keep your eyes open. Matt switched off the light, and you, the record player.
The two of you climbed into Matt's bed, stripping down into your underwear, nestling under the covers, and cuddling. Matt couldn't help but to get hard with your half-naked body curled up so closely to his with your nose nuzzled into his neck.
You guys heard Matt's dad pull up in his loud, rust-colored pickup truck, casting shadows across the bedroom as the headlights danced through the window. It's not that Matt wasn't allowed to have girls sleep over, but he certainly didn't think his father would approve of it, so the two of you silently decided to keep your staying the night a secret.
A couple hours later, you woke up to some movement in the bed. You figured Matt must have been tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. You listened a little more closely, and you heard soft noises and labored breathing coming from him.
It wasn't long after Matt's dad came in through the door that he trudged up the stairs and made his way into his bathroom, turning on the shower and getting ready for bed. You and Matt laid in the dark, the only bit of light pouring into the room from a nearby street lamp, and you fell asleep shortly after in each other's arms.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you caught a glimpse of desire on his face while he grinded against his pillow, desperate for relief. You watched quietly for a few minutes as he rutted into his blankets and listened as your name faintly fell from his lips. You smirked at how needy he was being.
"Need some help?" Your voice broke through his breathy whimpers. "What?" He asked, immediately stopping and acting like he'd just woken up. "Help me with what? I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, you naughty boy. Are you lying to me right now?" You moved closer to him, speaking in a low whisper while you tenderly grabbed him by his jaw. "Wanna try that again, hmm? You gonna tell me you weren't just humping your pillow?" You asked in a quiet voice.
"I'm sorry, mommy. It's so hard. It hurts," he whined in a bratty tone. You started slowly kissing Matt's neck, and you felt his body tighten against you. "I'm gonna make it feel all better," you moaned against his ear.
"My dad's asleep in the next room," Matt said quietly before letting out a stifled moan. "Makes it more hot that way, doesn't it? When it's a secret? When you have to keep your volume low? When it's risky and you could be caught if you're too loud?" You cooed, gently brushing your fingers over the fabric of his underwear, exciting him even further.
"Mmm. I dont know," he softly purred as you caressed his member. "I'll stop if you want me to. You know, so your dad doesn't hear us," you teased, whispering into his ear and delicately touching your lips to his ear lobe before kissing it. "No. Please. Keep going," he moaned quietly.
You slipped your hand into the waistband of his boxers and started running your fingers along his length while your lips moved back down to his neck. You could feel each of his veins as you lightly grazed him, testing how much teasing he could take.
He kept anticipating you wrapping your fingers around his thickness and sighing every time you didn't. "Why are you teasing so much?" He softly whimpered. You gave him a gentle squeeze, quietly chuckling at his neediness.
Finally, with his cock in your grip, you started to move your hand up and down, stroking his length while soft, delicate whimpers poured from his lips. "How do you like that, baby?" You asked in a voice just barely louder than a whisper.
"I love it, mommy. Please don't stop," he begged in a hushed volume. "Good boy," you cooed back as you started to pick up the pace a bit. "You can't finish until I tell you to," you added at the end.
He let out a long sigh. "But mommy. I'm already so close," he quietly cried. "Then you'd better get ahold of yourself," you responded in a sultry moan. He nodded at you obediently.
You couldn't tell how big he was because it was dark in the room, and you were jerking him off under his blanket, but it felt bigger than average. You noted that your fingers struggled to wrap around his girth, and your strokes felt long as you pumped his length back and forth. You couldn't wait until the day you'd get to see it.
You felt a wet warmth between your legs as you listened to the boy whimper beneath you while you continued sucking on his neck. "Mommy, please," he whispered. "Please, what?" You softly cooed against his hot skin.
"Please let me cum," he said in a strangled moan. "Not yet, baby." You smirked as you brushed your thumb over the tip, spreading around his pre-cum and eliciting more clear liquid from his sensitive slit.
"Mommy," he desperately whined, struggling to keep his volume down. "Sh, sh, sh," you whispered back into his ear while you stroked him mercilessly, admiring his facial expression that was saturated with pleasure in the dim, cool light offered by the street lamp.
His eyebrows were brought together, causing a little wrinkle between them, and his eyes were tightly closed. He caught his lip between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his pleasured sounds, which he did poorly.
You slowed down, taunting him some more. "No more teasing," Matt said in a breathy voice. "Oh. Please, mommy. Mmm. Need to - oh - need to cum so bad," Matt managed to get out in a series of broken moans and stifled whimpers.
You sped the pace back up for him, covering every inch of his cock, sending ripples of satisfaction through his body. "Please," he said once more. "Wait," you told him in a quiet, stern voice. He nodded at you with a submissive expression on his face.
You slowed down again, drawing out the process, really making him beg for it. He huffed in response. "If you wanna get an attitude with me, I'll stop and leave you unfinished," you replied, slowing the pace of your strokes.
"Mommy, please. I'm sorry. I won't get an attitude," he weakly answered, gripping your wrist to keep you from removing your hand from his dick. "Then be a good boy for mommy, okay?" You whispered, taking your free hand and tilting Matt's chin so that he was looking at you. He nodded, releasing his grasp on you.
You pumped back and forth again, fisting his cock while he started writhing under your control. "Good boy. You're doing such a good job," you cooed. Your name passed through his lips a few more times along with a few oohs and aahs.
"Mommy, please," Matt sobbed. You ignored his pleas, continuing your strokes, paying special attention to the head every time you brushed against it.
You felt him twitch against your palm, his dick begging for sweet release. Matt was so close to the edge, graciously trying to hold out just for you, but he wasn't used to waiting to cum or asking for permission to finish, but he was discovering how much he liked it.
He was so grateful when these next words left your mouth because he didn't know how much more he could take.
"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for mommy?" You whispered into his ear before you went back to kissing his neck. "Yes, mommy," he pathetically whined. He'd been waiting.
You saw the muscles in his face tighten in the dim light as his cock pulsated in your hand, blowing his load into your palm. His orgasm lasted several seconds due to how much you'd edged him, and he emitted a few guttural groans before a smile overcame his expression.
"Good boy," you whispered once more, kissing his forehead. He looked up at you breathlessly with his big, blue eyes and a satisfied grin on his face.
You got up and wandered into Matt's bathroom to clean the evidence off your hands, and once you got back into Matt's bed, the two of you wrapped yourselves up in each other.
You woke up early on Wednesday to the sound of the birds chirping and the morning sun peeking in through Matt's window as it came up over the hills.
You drifted back off to sleep, your legs intertwined with his and your head buried into his chest while you listened to the sound of his slowing heartbeat as his vitals returned to normal after his climax. Soon, you and Matt were both soundly asleep again.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
You let out a big yawn, and you heard the cute boy beside you begin to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and your image became clearer as he adjusted to the change in lighting.
"Good morning, pretty boy," you said in a soft murmur. "Good morning, baby. You're up early," he mumbled back in his sexy morning voice. "I know. I have to work today," you told him, climbing out of bed and putting back on the clothes you'd wandered out of last night.
Matt reached for you with a pouty look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get to see you until after your shift. You leaned in and kissed him. "How do you usually get to work?" Matt wondered out loud.
"I usually just walk. It's only a few blocks," you shrugged. "If you get back in this bed and cuddle with me for ten more minutes, I'll take you to work in the truck," Matt smiled up at you. "Deal," you replied, climbing back into bed and wrapping your arms around Matt for a few minutes longer.
"If you want to go run over to your place and get dressed for work, I'll go start up the truck," Matt offered, grinning at you. "That would be really sweet of you," you softly replied. The two of you left Matt's room, tiptoeing down the stairs and trying to stay as quiet as possible to keep from waking Matt's dad and blowing your little secret.
All your efforts were for naught when you and Matt made your way into the kitchen, realizing Matt's dad was already awake. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading his Bible, and drinking a cup of coffee.
"Oh, good morning. I didn't realize you stayed over last night," his dad said, peering up at you both from the page, his gaze dancing between you and Matt. "Morning, Mr. Sturniolo," you timidly said, avoiding addressing the sleepover.
"Uh, hi Dad," Matt responded, reaching behind his head and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I'm gonna take the truck to go drop my friend off at work really quick," Matt said, picking the keys up off the counter.
"Why don't I come with you guys? So I can learn a little more about your friend here?" Matt's dad asked, getting up from his seat at the table and extending his arm for Matt to hand over the keys.
Matt gulped, knowing that on top of figuring out you had stayed the night, now he was also going to know what you did for work. He reluctantly forked over the keys. "I'll meet you guys at the truck in about a half hour," you said, giving Matt a quick, awkward side hug.
You couldn't get out of the situation quickly enough.
The whole time you were showering, changing into clean clothes, and brushing your hair and your teeth, you were dreading how awkward the drive over was going to be. You resented that this was only your second interaction with Matt's dad, who you really wanted to like you and approve of you.
You were afraid it would go how any other relationship you'd had went. Their parents would either outwardly not like you, judging you based on all the most scandalous things about your personality and not bothering to get to know the other aspects of you better.
Or worse, the parents would pretend to like you to your face and then would badmouth you to your partner in private, telling them how much better they could be doing and how bad of an influence you are.
You braced yourself for it all as you sauntered out the door and headed for the orange truck.
"You ready?" Matt asked as he opened the door for you. You nodded and nestled in between the two men as Matt climbed into the truck behind you.
"So, what do you do for work?" Matt's dad asked you, pulling out of the driveway. "I work in retail. It's this way," you said, trying to avoid giving too much detail about your job and pointing in the direction of the road he needed to take.
"What do your parents do for work?" His dad wondered. "My mom is a flight attendant, and my dad was a pilot, but now he works in air traffic," you responded.
"Ah, so they work in similar fields," Matt's dad nodded. "Yeah, they met at work. Fun fact, I was actually conceived on a plane," you told them both. "Shit. Sorry. That was an overshare," you said, putting your palm over your mouth once you realized you'd just sworn in front of Matt's very Christian dad.
He didn't laugh or find your quirkiness charming. Matt looked at you wide-eyed, knowing your humor wasn't going to land well with his father.
You continued giving him directions to your retail job, which wasn't totally a lie, and he cleared his throat and gave Matt a look when the three of you pulled into the parking lot of a sex shop. Matt stepped out of the truck to let you out.
"Well, this has been fun," you said sarcastically, feeling the thick tension in the air as your feet hit the pavement. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Sturniolo. Matt, I'll call you on my lunch break," you told him, leaning in and giving him a tender peck on the lips.
You could feel how warm and red your face was as you turned around and headed for the front door of your job. Your coworker, Carly was at the register, giving you an inquisitive look and watching the scene play out.
"Did your cute neighbor boy take you to work?" She asked, giving Matt a little subtle wave, and he waved back, giving Carly a shy smile.
"Yeah, and his very Christian father after he caught me sleeping over. Oh, and he didn't know I worked in the adult entertainment industry until about a minute ago," you added, looking at Carly with a deer in headlights look.
"Oh. That sounds like a very awkward morning," she said, trying to contain her laugher. "It's fine. You can laugh. It is comical, really. I just hope he's not in the truck, telling Matt that I'm a harlot and trying to convince him to stop hanging out with me," you expressed to Carly, tears forming in your eyes.
Her face softened, and she took on an expression of pity. "I'm so sorry. Come here. You know, no matter what his dad says about you, I'm sure Matt's still gonna like you," she said, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back while she comforted you. You wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye before it had a chance to fall. "Thank you for saying that."
Meanwhile, in the rusty-colored Dodge Dakota, your worst fears were unfolding. "Matt, what on earth are you thinking? Running around with a girl like that?" He asked angrily as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"Dad-" Matt started to say, but the older man cut him off. "She works at a place called Temptations. You don't see anything wrong with that? You think God wants you canoodling with a girl like that," he replied, giving Matt a somber look.
"A girl like that? What does that even mean? There's so much more to her than that," Matt defended you, raising his voice a bit. "Son, just be careful. Girls like that are trouble. I don't know if this is some kind of overcorrection because you're upset about May-" Matt's dad started.
"How dare you bring up May?" Matt glared at his father. "I'm just saying, son. You and May made sense together," his dad replied, shrugging. "Actually, dad. We didn't. May and I stayed together for so long because neither one of us wanted to admit we were incompatible," Matt scoffed. "What?" Matt's dad asked, completely taken aback by his kid's comment.
Matt and May's relationship was picture perfect on the outside. They didn't argue, they didn't complain about one another to their friends and families, and everyone envied what they had. Everyone thought they'd be together forever, including the two of them.
"I know this new girl is completely different from May. She's not a Christian. She's loud and domineering. She's aggressive, and she's overbearing. And she's honest. Maybe even too honest. She always says what's on her mind even if other people aren't going to like it. And I don't love her despite those qualities. I love her because of those qualities," Matt huffed, silencing his dad.
The two men sat quietly beside each other in the truck, mulling over what the other had said. Matt's dad was a lot of things, but unsupportive wasn't one of them.
A few more moments passed before his father finally spoke up. "Fine. Invite her over for dinner. I want to get to know the girl you love."
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pseudowho · 7 months ago
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Kingsman!AU: Galahad/Nanami Kento
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You become the latest Kingsman...and the man who sponsored you is so much more than the gentleman he presents himself as.
Warnings: Best if you've seen the Kingsman films! 18+, MDNI, soft!Dom Nanami, SecretAgent!AU
A little series of smutty drabbles...also planned, Higuruma, perhaps others, for now.
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It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the strangest job interview you had ever had.
Handcuffed, in an East London Police interview room, after assaulting five (...six? Seven?) police officers at an anti-government protest, you were scruffy but unharmed. The blood on your hands was not your own. There was a high flush on your cheeks, ripped clothes casting an indifferent, messy disdain to the situation you found yourself in.
There was a knock at the door, three brisk taps. You did not answer-- a pause. Three further raps at the door.
"...come in?" You asked. The door opened a crack. No further advancement.
"...may I?" A voice, velvet smooth and low, asking your permission.
"I...dont see why it would be my choice," you offered, stretching your hands against the cold metal of your handcuffs.
The door opened slowly, filled by a broad, tall man, blond and outstandingly handsome, with neither a hair nor thread out of place in his Savile Row suit. Over his arm rested a neatly folded overcoat, and a glossy-handled men's umbrella. His hat never graced his head indoors, and was, as such, clasped in his hand. He raised one fine eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable.
"It would be ill-mannered of me to consider it anyone's choice other than yours," he offered coolly, sitting opposite you, "considering you are the only occupant of the room." A moment of silence, again, as you regarded each other.
"Are you...my lawyer?" The man's nostrils flared slightly in suppressed mirth.
"Good heavens, no. No, I have come with a job opportunity." You blinked, certain you had heard wrong, while he continued, "I saw your performance, on my way to work, and I must say I was rather impressed. Seven officers, in under a minute. All incapacitated. Outstanding. And you're untrained, too. And, you did so well at University-- first class honours, correct?"
"Who the hell are you?" You spat, bristling under the man's casual knowledge of your life. The station's assistant looked awkwardly between the two of you as he dropped off two chipped police-issue teacups and saucers of anemic-looking tea. The blond man took the cup and saucer so gracefully, considering the enormity of his hands.
"Ah...quite right. I haven't introduced myself. Nanami Kento-- it's a pleasure to meet you."
You faltered again under his icy regard. Nanami took a sip of his tea. He paused, looking down at it with a hint of despair, before placing it down and delicately clearing his throat.
"...delicious," he lied.
"Are you...MI5?" A brief smile from Nanami, in response. He reached for something in his pocket.
"No," he responded, clipped, "we are not. But, we are in service to King and Country, and we are the sort of agency who punch up, instead of down. And...we find ourselves one member short."
Nanami slipped a thick, embossed coin over the desk to you; a circle, with a sideways "K". Nanami stood up, abruptly, inclining his head to you.
"All charges against you have been dropped. Your interview will commence, at..." Nanami looked at his watch, "...five o'clock this afternoon, should you wish to accept. If you press that coin for five seconds, my associate should send you the details."
You sat, stunned into silence, with the coin in your hands. Nanami Kento looked to you with twinkling eyes, at the door. You felt the twist of fate in your belly, and the pull as Nanami Kento walked it away with him.
"Good day to you. The pleasure was all mine."
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It had taken you over an hour to walk from Whitechapel to the Savile Row address. As bedraggled as you were, you passed through the bustling gentry and street performers of Covent Garden, skirting past the Savoy...before reaching the hushed, golden backlit glow of an exquisite Tailors shop. Letters were embossed upon the windowpane, glimmering gold on a backdrop of finery.
Kingsman.
A tinkling bell; an incongruous stranger, entering an unfamiliar domain. A familiar stranger, strong and smiling, upon the couch. Your breath hitched before you spoke.
"...you're here." Nanami folded his newspaper, standing up, before welcoming you to a changing room, that was not a changing room.
"You're late," he whispered against your ear, as the ground under London sank beneath your feet.
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"...that's mad." You stood in front of a glass window, somewhere far beneath Surrey, gazing in wonderment upon an aircraft hangar full of billions of pounds worth of mercenary equipment. Nanami chuckled beside you. You missed the almost fond sideways glance he passed you.
"I thought the same," he hummed, "when I was brought here, for the first time. I thought someone was playing some tremendous joke, for all the world but me." You were silent, dry-mouthed and swallowing.
"Tell me something..." you insisted, your palm pressed flat against the glass.
"...anything," Nanami reassured, soft and sincere.
"If I pass this-- this test," you whispered, turning to him, "will I get to work with you?"
Nanami smiled, leaning upon the handle of his umbrella, one leg crossed upon the tip of his toes behind the other.
"I'm counting on it."
Another man, tall and lithe, with inky black hair and a hooked nose, arrived with a clipboard. He offered you both a lopsided smile-- "Galahad-- good to see you, my friend"-- white sleeves rolled up against a tailored waistcoat--
-- a rich, Scottish brogue--
"...are you ready to begin?"
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Not only had you passed these months and months of bizarre, deadly tests...you had excelled.
Nanami had remained, always, at arms' length...a distant advisor. An odd, gentle promise. He could not offer any tangible advice, and you could see him itching to, at points.
It was down to the final two; you, and some Cambridge yuppy who could trace his family lineage back to the Battle of Hastings.
You stepped through the dormitories, late at night before the final test, your German Shepherd bounding ahead to sit diligently at the foot of your bed.
You felt a strong arm loop around your waist, and a hand over your mouth. A familiar cologne that made your stomach clench. You stood, pressed against his clipped, firm body, tucked into a camera's blindspot.
"Listen to me," he hissed in your ear, "Do you trust me?"
You nodded, not hesitating for a moment. Nanami's belly flipped to feel your hot little breaths around his hand.
"Good...shoot the fucking dog." You squeaked, trying to turn to him. He pinned you flush against the wall. His chest rumbled against your back.
"Trust me. Shoot the dog."
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You shot first, without a moment of hesitation. Your opponent returned to Cambridge. You became a Kingsman. Both dogs survived the trial.
The hamper that Galahad, your new partner, sent to your home, was nothing short of the finest luxury.
"To my Very Best Bet", read the lovingly annotated card. You brushed it against your lips, wishing it was his fingers instead.
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The wallet was a supple brown leather, smooth and warm. You knew it belonged to Galahad, from the faint smoky cologne that lingered upon its skin. Merlin gave you Galahad's address. You missed the knowing smile Merlin also gave you.
Your stomach flipped in your belly, all the way through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. You passed beneath trees hundreds of years older than the establishment for which you now worked, treading upon the footsteps of Kings and Queens.
The first fresh flakes of snow kissed upon your lips, by the time you turned to the towering white grandeur of Kensington, very much not where you were from. You were freezing, your little hands clenched in your pockets, but hot with anticipation.
Reaching a fine, tall townhouse, all Georgian architectural triumph, you pushed through the black metal gate, rising up white stone steps. You hesitated only briefly before tapping the door, heavy, and gilded forest green.
"--just a minute-- please excuse me--...oh. Hello."
Galahad stood at the door, as...relaxed as you had ever seen him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, and his waistcoat hung similarly open, with tie tails trailing down his chest. With his sleeves rolled up, and a pinstriped apron tied round his waist, you swore you almost saw him blush.
"...to what do I owe the pleasure?" He breathed out, finally. The apples of your cheeks, pink with the cold, dimpled under your smile. You reached out to Galahad, his wallet clasped in your hand.
"You forgot something," you offered. His hand reached out immediately, a goodness, thank you, you shouldn't have upon his lips, before your cold little fingers grasped under his own.
"You are miles from home," he rumbled, chastising, "and you are freezing cold." You tipped on your heels on the doorstep, placating him with a finger to your lips, and a glint in your eye. You moved to go down the steps, but your fingers remained clasped in his.
"Where are my manners? You should come in...of course."
"Galahad, don't feel oblig--"
"Kento, please," he ushered you inside, a hand ghosting over the small of your back, "if we're going to share dinner, we should not pretend to be strangers."
Kento's house bore all the opulent gloss of its noble history, with fine black and white checkered tile flooring, and twisting dark oak bannisters carrying the high staircase away from you. A receiving room beside you, bigger than your whole home, bloomed beneath the sultry flicker of a fire, the only source of light in the room. The kitchen lights spilled inwards, a herby bourginon aroma drawing you in.
You slipped your coat off your shoulders, and blushed, as Kento stood behind you to receive it. His heart pounded under the effort of containing his thrill to have you in his home. The thought of being alone with him, like this, had occupied your mind at night, for so many months.
"Sit, please," Kento insisted, heading to his drinks cabinet. Two slim, hazel eyes darted to you in question; "...can I tempt you?"
You settled on the sofa, antique, and likely much older than you; "Ah...wine?" Kento smiled, heading over to you with a bottle in his grasp, and two slim-necked glasses between his fingers.
You shared the bottle-- dinner was forgotten, cooking slowly on the back burner. You felt yourself becoming supple, warmed by the fire, the wine and the company. Within just a few hours, you and Kento laughed together, both liquor-dishevelled, hands brushing forearms on the back of the sofa. His calloused fingertips were electric against the inside of your wrist.
"You really were, you know," Kento hummed, placing down his unfinished glass of wine, "my best bet. The best gamble I...I ever made." You didn't know how you had ended up drawn so closely to him. Your legs tangled in his, head radiating from his thighs into yours. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you gently, insistently, closer to him.
"I don't normally do this," Kento bargained with himself, whispering against you, his tongue swiping out to dampen your plush lips, "it isn't very-- I really shouldn't, I-- dinner first, at least--" You couldn't help but drown under him, silent in the pools of his dilated pupils as he pressed you to lay back on the sofa, climbing over you, and trapping you beneath him.
"...can I tell you a secret?" Kento murmured against your neck, melting you under his lips and tongue. His hand moved down to undo the buttons of your silk blouse. You nodded, feeling him shiver as you did the same to his shirt.
"...I left my wallet behind on purpose," he rumbled, predatory. The tension snapped. His lips crashed to yours, with Kento groaning into your mouth, tongue trembling against yours. Ripping at the buttons of your blouse, his gentlemanly self-restraint was all but abandoned.
Stripping you, freeing your breasts with bitten-back growls and murmurs, Kento rolled you onto the Persian rug in front of the fire, crowding over you and taking one breast between his lips, licking your nipple into his mouth as his enormous hand pawed at the other.
"--beautiful...beautiful, you know that? Always thought...if you hadn't made it in...I'd have brought you home anyway..."
"Ken--Kento, I--" You broke off into breathy, high moans as Kento's hand slipped down, clutching at your pussy beneath your skirt. His hand scraped the lace edges of your stockings, his breaths frantic and panting with hurry.
"Say my name...again," he panted, strong fingers cupping your sex, moving to massage you, desperate need radiating through his hand. Kento pressed hard enough to massage your clit through the lips of your pussy, you mewled, squirming under him as he growled, "Again. Say my name."
"Kento," you squeaked. Your voice seemed to make Kento frantic, and he pulled off your skirt, your stockings, your underwear, until you were suddenly, blissfully bare beneath him. He knelt, still fully clothed in front of the firelight. His barrelled chest rose and fell, a high blush across his sharp cheekbones.
"This isn't...how a gentleman behaves," you gasped, one arm draped over your eyes. You heard Kento chuckle, cracking his knuckles above your prone, trembling curves. You heard the wolfish grin in his voice.
"Oh yes it fucking is."
One of his hands draped between your breasts, running down your chest and belly, to graze fingertips over your mound. His eyes flicked up to yours again, dark, hungry and questioning. You floated, somewhere both above and beneath him.
"Anything...anything you want," you keened, "whatever you want." Something tightened in Kento's jaw. His fingers trailed lower, grazing your plush lips again, dipping beneath to stroke up and down the slick length between your entrance and clit.
"...what a dangerous thing to say, to a man like me...I don't get treats like you often." Kento pressed two fingers slowly into your clenching heat, eyes rolling back with a fractured moan, gripping you to him by the hip. His cock strained against his trousers, and he moved lazily to unzip himself, shaking with self-restraint. He could not bear the way you twisted and squirmed, to feel his thick fingers fucking into you.
"...good girl...how does it feel? As good as your own? Did you touch yourself, like this, when you dreamt about me?" You could only nod in response, moaning and reaching down to clutch his wrist. His fingers curled upwards towards your soft sensitive spot, buried into you up to his knuckles, and swirling his fingertips over the spongy patch. You sobbed into his touch and he folded over you, shushing, pressing kisses to your temples.
"It's alright, darling...I felt it too...I'll show you. How I touched myself...thinking about you." Kento shuddered against your neck, his fingers still working magic into your belly. His cock flopped heavy into his hand, thick, long, and Kento felt so touch-starved as he closed his eyes, raising his thumb to stroke around your clit, imagining it was his weeping cockhead.
He shushed you again, chasing you up the rug as your pleasure built, heat surging through your thighs and belly. Kento couldn't help but fuck into his own fist, lubricated by his pre-cum, overheating with the need to sink himself inside you, and paint you white with his seed. He cracked his neck from side to side. Doubling down, his fingers picked up speed, pressing your clit until you writhed, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
"That's it...that's it...let it happen," Kento whispered into your neck, still fucking into his fist against your belly as you climaxed, hands tangled in his mussed hair, burning under the weight of him. His fingers fucked you through the haze of pleasure, nose stroking into your hair, whispering his praises against your ears; "...so proud of you...such a good job...so proud of you, my little gamble..."
Your thighs threatened to flop to the sides, soft and lazy after your orgasm. Kento nestled himself between them, cockhead stroking between your folds, and you whimpered to feel your sensitive clit nudged. Folded over you, Kento met your eyes. A slightly guilty smile ghosted over his face, his voice shaking, seemingly coming back to himself. He resolved to restrain himself;
"I, uh...usually have better manners. This was unprofessional of me. Ungentlemanly, even. I...I insist we...leave this here, and do this properly. Now, we sh-- haaaaah, fuck-- shit-- you--"
Interrupting Kento, you had waited for his cockhead to stroke down to your entrance before fucking him inside you, rolling your hips up to trap his cock inside your walls. You wailed around the stretch, Kento's cock huge and pulsing inside you, and Kento lost his mind.
Grasping your hips with vicious strength, he cursed, rutting into you with abandon. You felt his fat, blunt cockhead jabbing against your cervix immediately, and Kento leaned into it, tilting your hips to fuck you deeper, overtaken by a primal need.
"...little minx...I offer you--ahhhh fuck-- dinner, and you...you offer me...your cunt...just like you, shit--"
You giggled, breathless against Kento's feral attentions, and the sound shot straight down Kento's spine. Your laughs caught in your throat when he held his hips flush to yours, barely pulling out, bullying into your pussy with no restraint.
You felt the steam of sweat beneath Kento's shirt, felt how badly he needed this, and revelled in the way he fell apart above you, his cock milked by your wet, velvet heat. Kento leaned back just enough to see where his cock disappeared into you.
The sight had him reeling, and he came with a bark, spitting and swearing against his total lack of self-control. You felt his cock twitch and bound inside you, spattering your walls with thick stripes of cum. Kento crumpled onto his elbows, face twisted in euphoric agony to see you bite your lip at him, rolling your hips to milk him of every last drop of cum.
Gasping for just a few moments, before rolling his shoulders with soft cracks again, Kento pulled out of you, flipping you over so your face pressed down into the rug. You squealed to feel your hands drawn behind your back, and the soft shhhhff shhhfff shhhhhffff of his tie being pulled free of his collar.
Face down, and arse up, Kento dipped his fingers into your cum-dripping, twitching hole.
"That's how a boy does it," Kento growled, beginning to thread his tie around your wrists, "now lets show you how a Kingsman does it."
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Getting to wax lyrically about my beloved London was a treat.
Up next: Higuruma Hiromi/Merlin
685 notes · View notes
fatecantstopme · 1 year ago
Text
Better Together
Tumblr media
Pairing: Rafael Barba x reader
Summary: Barba acts like he hates you because it's the only way he can keep his cool in your presence. Things come to a head and you call him out on it...
Warnings: cursing, Rafael is a bit of a dick at first. Use of nicknames (baby, cariño, querida, etc.). SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.
cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.
por favor: please
qué: what
hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous
"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"
You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."
"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.
"Four hours."
"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"
You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."
"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."
"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."
"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."
Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"
"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."
Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.
As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"
Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."
"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"
She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."
You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.
"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.
"I hate you."
She laughed. "No you don't."
"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."
"Does he?"
"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.
"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.
Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."
"See?!" you said smugly.
Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."
"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.
"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."
**********
Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.
Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.
You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."
"Why?" Fin asked.
As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.
"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."
You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."
"Are you a forensic psychologist?"
"Again, no."
"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"
"No..."
"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.
You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.
You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.
Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.
"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."
"Likely both."
"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."
You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."
**********
Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.
After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.
"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."
"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."
"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.
Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.
You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...
You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.
When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.
You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.
Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"
You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"
"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.
"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"
"I don't have a problem with psychologists."
"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"
He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."
"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"
"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.
"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.
He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.
"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."
It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.
"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."
You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"
He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."
"Why, then?" you asked softly.
He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."
"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."
His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.
"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."
"Safer?"
He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."
His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"
He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."
"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"
"Exactly."
"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"
He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."
You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.
"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."
You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."
If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."
"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."
He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."
His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.
Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...
You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.
"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.
You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.
"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"
"Do you really want to know?"
He nodded.
You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."
He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.
"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.
He looked back up at you in surprise.
"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."
"What makes you think that?"
"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."
"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."
"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."
He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.
"May I be honest with you?" he asked.
"I want nothing less."
"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."
Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.
"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."
You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.
"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.
He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."
"What are you so afraid of?"
He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."
For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.
After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"
"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."
Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.
With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."
He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.
Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.
You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.
Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."
"Mhmm," you hummed in response.
"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."
"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.
He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."
You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."
"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."
You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.
He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.
He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.
As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.
When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."
You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.
Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.
You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.
His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.
As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.
He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.
“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.
You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.
Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.
Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.
“You are perfect, hermosa.”
You blushed. “Rafa…”
He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”
Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…
He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.
Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”
His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.
He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.
You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”
He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”
You blushed and shook your head.
His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”
“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”
He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”
You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.
You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.
You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.
You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.
In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.
"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.
He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.
Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.
"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.
He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.
The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"
"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.
He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.
He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.
Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.
You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.
"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.
"You don't have to..." he said softly.
There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.
"But I want to," you reassured him.
"You do?"
You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."
His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.
You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."
"Qué?" he asked in confusion.
You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."
He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.
You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.
You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.
You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.
You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.
As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.
You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."
"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.
"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."
He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.
You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."
The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.
Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.
You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.
When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.
You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.
You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.
You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.
His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.
You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.
His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.
"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"
"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."
He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.
"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.
Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.
There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.
Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]
You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.
"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]
"Yes!" you gasped.
"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]
"Rafa, please--I'm so close."
He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.
You nodded your head rapidly.
"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]
You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.
"Don't--stop!"
He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."
You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.
You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.
"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.
He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.
You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.
"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.
You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."
"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."
"Who says we have to?"
"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."
Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."
You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."
He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.
"I was kidding, Rafa!"
He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."
You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.
"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.
You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."
Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.
"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."
Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.
Within minutes, you'd drifted off to sleep in his arms. Just before he fell asleep too, Rafael kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Te adoro con locura." [I adore you madly.]
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lovings4turn · 9 months ago
Note
helloo don’t mind me!! just here to request the prompt ‘that little panicked reach for them if they trip ever so slightly’ with oscar (i love him i fear) <33
ohhh oscar piastri my fav polite cat <3 thank you sm for sending this in darling ,, hope you like it <3
lazy mornings are a rarity for you and oscar. if oscar doesn't have a team meeting at the break of dawn, you have a morning class or an early shift, or another commitment that requires one of you to rush out of the house before the sun has fully risen.
today, though, you're lucky. neither you nor oscar have anywhere to be, your only plans for the day being to spend as much time together as physically possible and soak up every drop of domestic bliss that you can.
making breakfast together, of course, falls under the umbrella of your designated 'oscar time', as you've so lovingly taken to calling it. and while oscar's desire to follow his meal plan may be strong, but his love for home-made pancakes and chopped fruit is far, far stronger.
the batter is fairly easy to whip up, your half-asleep brain thanking you for the lack of thinking necessary to make your breakfast.
oscar is tasked with manning the stove while you begin to prepare the fruit. though the boy claims he’s an expert at flipping the pancakes, you expect to spend five minutes after eating scraping batter off of the hob. still, his earnestness is nothing but endearing.
with a box of strawberries in hand, you begin to make your way back over to the counter. somehow, the four steps that make up your journey prove too complicated, and you stumble a little as you walk. it's nothing serious; just enough to make you swear under your breath as you lose your footing, yet you remain upright.
the pancake is abandoned, and oscar instantly has a hand on your waist to steady you, usually neutral face painted with an expression of disbelief. you know formula one drivers are expected to have fast reflexes, but it’s as though oscar has trained himself to respond to anything pertaining to you at an almost superhuman speed.
his brows are furrowed, and you want to lean forward and press a kiss against the space between them in order to get him to relax.
"there's no way. you did not just trip over air, y/n."
"sorry. i was just falling for you," you respond in a sing-song tone, flashing oscar the widest, proudest grin you can muster.
silence.
"ugh," he groans, nose scrunched in faux disgust. "you're so cheesy."
"and you love it," you hum, playfully tapping the flushed tip of his nose with a teasing smile.
"yeah, yeah, i'll just let you fall next time, darling" oscar grumbles, though the corner of his mouth is quirked up into a fond smile. "i'm sure the cold kitchen tiles'll humble you a little.”
your jaw drops in shock, and as you search for a witty retort, your eyes land on oscar’s pancake. still wrapped up in his act of chivalry, eyes not having left your frame yet, your boyfriend fails to notice his culinary masterpiece is quickly overcooking.
you sniff once, then once again, plastering a look of confusion onto your face before you speak.
“do you smell burning?”
“fuck!”
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a-simple-imagine · 1 year ago
Text
Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery
synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down
pairing: jordan li x fem!reader
words: 5.2k+
a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them
WARNINGS - swearing and drug use
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a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.
"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.
"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.
"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."
"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"
"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."
"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.
"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."
"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."
"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."
Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."
"aren't i always," you tease.
"we're going out tonight"
"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"
"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.
you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"
"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."
"then why am I here?"
"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."
this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"
"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"
you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."
"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."
"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."
"what about Luke?"
"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"
you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."
"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."
"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."
"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."
"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.
it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"
"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."
"what do you mean?" Luke questions.
"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."
"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."
"What did Dean Shetty say?"
"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."
"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.
"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."
"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."
"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."
your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.
"Just watching the fish,"
"why?"
"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.
"you're fucked, huh?"
"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.
"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."
"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.
"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."
"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.
"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.
"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.
"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.
"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.
"you gotta stop running off, silly."
"but the fishies-"
"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"
"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."
"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"
"mhmm,"
"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.
"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"
"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.
"what?"
cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."
"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."
"i think you could actually take luke's spot."
"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."
"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"
you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.
"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.
your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.
"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"
there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."
"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."
you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.
"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."
"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."
"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."
you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."
"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."
"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much
"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."
"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."
"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."
"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."
urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."
"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."
Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."
"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."
"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.
it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"
"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."
"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk
"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."
"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.
"what's up?"
"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."
"you sure?"
Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."
that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.
"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."
"What makes you think that?"
"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."
"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"
"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.
"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."
"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.
"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.
"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.
"we're actually trying to have a private con-"
"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.
"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."
"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.
"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.
"it's probably just because of the rankings."
"you mean because I took their spot?"
"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.
"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"
"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."
"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."
"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."
"what happened the other night?" you ask again.
"ask Jordan."
"I'm asking you, Cate."
"you were just a lot and said some things."
"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."
"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"
"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"
"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.
"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."
you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"
"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"
"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"
"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."
a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."
"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.
"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."
"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.
"Is this okay?" they say quietly.
"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.
"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.
"Jordan,"
"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.
"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?
"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."
"no Jordan-"
"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."
"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.
"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."
"It's not pity."
"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"
"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"
"don't say things you don't mean."
"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.
"so… now what?" they ask.
"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."
"Seriously?"
"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."
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yourlittlebunnyy · 3 months ago
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a court of shadows and darkness
masterlist - previous chapter
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chapter five
summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.
warnings: none
enjoy!!!
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"Vane, do you realize that you never told me about Thomas?"
"And you realize you never told me about Azriel?"
The two friends laugh, Selaene speaks first, "You start."
Vanessa becomes more serious before beginning the story, "I miss him so much. We had accepted the bond just a few months ago, and one night we thought we would check to see if we could winnow into animal form, and well, that's how it ended. He was-no, he is the best person I know, Elle. If I ever come back, I won't be upset if he continued to live."
"You mean... You mean when you come back, not if. Right?"
Fae cannot see her friend but imagines the sad smile that would show on her face.
"Sure. Now tell me about Azriel."
Selaene chuckles, though a twinge in her chest makes her sad. Nevertheless, she cannot help but smile.
"He is... perfect. I would have accepted the bond that very night, probably. I would have cooked him his favorite food and then we would have gone to his cabin and started a family. I hope with all my heart that he's moved on, because I know him and I know that when he loves ... he loves with everything he's got, and sometimes he risks destroying himself."
Vanessa does not respond, but the darkness they have learned to live with envelops them like a blanket.
"We used to sing together. He is a Shadowsinger, and I simply like to sing, as you already know. That's how we fell in love; the bond snapped after that."
After a moment's pause, the tiger speaks.
"You know, Elle, I have seen you only a few times and briefly, but for me you're the Moon."
Selaene cannot be seen, but she smiles bitterly, "My mate used to tell me that too."
And that is how they end their talk, silence settles over them, and Selaene's eyes close involuntarily.
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She is running across a meadow, the light of a summer day now almost at an end illuminating the field in which she prances, she feels the sun kissing her skin, such inviting warmth. Behind her she hears the laughter of a male, no. Her brother's. Rhysand. It is a memory, she realizes, from when she was a child. She was only a decade old at the time.
"Rhysand!"
"What's the matter? Do I have a bug on me?"
Her brother laughs, but when he sees his little sister's tears, he does not hesitate to run to her and ask her if everything is all right.
"Selae...what's going on? Are you hurt?"
When his sister does not answer him, he becomes seriously worried.
"Rhysand... are you," a sob interrupts her, "really you?"
"Selae, but are you okay? Do you want me to call mom?" Concern is evident in his tone.
The sister watches her hands, as if in disbelief at what she sees. "That's not possible..."
"Wait here, I'll go get her."
"No! Please don't go."
This is her chance, she thinks. If his brother knows she is alive, if he has even the slightest chance, he knows he will look everywhere to find her.
"Rhysand, you need to wake up."
"What are you talking about?"
"Rhysand. Please, you're dreaming."
"Did you hit your head?" Selaene denies with a wave of her head, and then begins to feel her body again. She is running out of time.
"Rhysand, you may not understand now, but when you wake up I want you to remember what I'm about to tell you now. I am not dead. I'm stuck in....."
But the fae cannot finish the sentence: he is already gone and the light is replaced by darkness once again.
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Selaene wakes up startled and out of breath. She expects to be on a flowery meadow with the sun warming her muscles and her brother beside her, but she has to come to terms with reality. She had never dreamed before. No, it was not a dream.
It was a memory of an unforgettable day for her, she still remembered that late summer afternoon. Her father had finally given in to the child's pleas and taken her to the Velaris River along with her mother and brother, but he had not stayed with them. He had not allowed Rhys's friends to come, however.
But Selaene had been content and had played among the fields and water as never before. It is one of the best memories she has with her brother.
The dream leaves bitterness on her palate, and she has to swallow a knot in her throat before turning to Vanessa, hoping she is still asleep.
The two of them have this silent agreement: if one is awakened by the other crying, or having a nightmare, they are silent and pretend to be asleep, to leave some private space.
But this time Vanessa is awake, and although she cannot see her, she knows that he is staring at her.
"What is it?" The younger fae asks, her voice stymied.
"You haven't... you've never had a nightmare the almost five centuries. Do you want to talk about it?"
All Selaene is able to see is darkness, but nevertheless she still rolls her eyes. She doesn't want to talk about it. Neither of them has ever wanted to. Why now?
"I don't want to talk about it."
"It might help you..." Vanessa's tone is sweet, and it turns her stomach. She doesn't want her sympathy.
"I don't need someone to feel sorry for me."
The tiger snorts, a sound more animal than human, "I didn't say that. But when I have my nightmares, I'd like to have someone to talk to about them."
"What?"
The tension in the air between the two gets so thick it could be cut with scissors. Vanessa thinks hard about what to say before she speaks again, but nothing good comes to her mind.
"Vanessa. I thought we had a silent agreement."
"And we do. It's just that I've been here almost six fucking centuries. I just wish someone would tell me we're going to get out of this and it's going to be okay, but instead I'm always the one who has to comfort." The words entered from Fae's ears and went straight to her heart, breaking it even more than it already was. She wanted to get angry, to scream at them to get over it, to leave her alone. But somehow those words hurt her more than they should have, hit her right in the center.
She had never realized-she had never thought that her sister, while showing herself strong and hopeful, was suffering as much as she was, for even longer than her. She never said anything comforting to her, nothing sweet, never listened to her vent, or never consoled her. At this point she doesn't know if she can call herself her sister, her friend.
"Vane..." A sob comes out of the depths of her throat, sudden and violent, and tears away the one small healthy part of her, the only unbroken part of her.
"You leave me alone now. I don't want you to comfort me just because I told you to. I would have liked you to do it spontaneously. Sister to sister."
Selaene hesitates to respond, the crying still unabated, and the worst thing-the thing that keeps her from stopping-is that Vanessa does not approach her, does not give her warmth with her fur or try to comfort her. She ignores her. And somehow it is even worse. Somehow, these four and a half centuries she has been locked up in the UnderWorld are all being felt now, creating an excruciating pain in her chest, at the level of her heart. Her friend probably feels the same way, but in contrast to her, she has never had anyone to encourage her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Vanessa. I'm so sorry..."
And she would like to say more, she would have liked it so much. She wished she could have told her that if there was anyone in that place who deserved to go back to the top, then it was Vanessa. That she deserved it more than anyone. That if it wasn't for her, she would have gone crazy. That even if Selaene was not, the tiger for her was the best sister she could ever ask for. That if they had found a passage, Selaene would have sent her first, would have given her that opportunity because it was hers to take.
Instead, tearing those words from her throat, for the first time in nearly five hundred years,is a passerby passing so close to the violet-eyed fae that she loses her balance. And so, just as in only a moment she ended up down here, in only a moment she is also back up. Without Vanessa.
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Rhysand wakes suddenly, his eyes wide open and out of breath. He does not want to wake Feyre, who lying beside him seems so peaceful now that she has finally managed to sleep a full night without being woken by Nyx.
He sits on the edge of the bed and sighs exhaustedly. With one hand he strokes his face as if to ascertain that he is real, that he is not dreaming.
He thinks back to the dream. Or what he thinks is a dream.
He never dreamed of his sister. He lets out a snort before getting up and heading to his study. When he gets there, he takes care to lock the room before throwing himself down in his chair with a thud, dead weight.
Why after all these years? Why did his mind have to play such tricks on him?
In the dream she ... was a child, but she spoke as if she were alive, not as in the memory of that beautiful afternoon at the river. As if the memory was just a way of communicating, a conduit.
Rhysand tries to calm his breaths. He has come a long way in accepting the death of his loved ones. In forgiving himself for not being there to protect them. His breaths become labored as he feels that wound in his heart slowly reopen as he replays the dream in his head.
It was so strange, so destabilizing. Selaene begged him to wake up, as if she was alive and knew he was dreaming the same thing. For a moment, a thought flashed through his mind, but he did not allow it to stay, or to think about it. Too many years have passed. She cannot be alive. Azriel himself has heard her die.
A soft knock distracts him from his thoughts. With a sigh he rises from his chair, and he does not like the heavy feeling invading his body.
He opens the door and finds himself facing his mate.
"Rhys... is everything all right, honey?"
Rhysand does not answer her, but throws himself into her arms, leaving her a little surprised.
"I miss her so much, Feyre." He finds himself saying through tears, his face buried in her hair.
Feyre does not respond, but stands there with him on the doorframe and supports him, holds him up and offers him a shoulder to cry on.
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purplecoffee13 · 4 months ago
Text
‘Paranoid’* - Thin Lines Pt 5
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“All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy…” - Paranoid by Black Sabbath
Summary: “You go on a date with someone new, but Harry doesn’t approve.”
Wc: 4K (more or less)
Tropes: rockstar!harry x opera singer!mc
Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, harry being a dick, angst, fighting
A/N: hey, here is the new update for thin lines! Although you may think it from the way this part ends, it is NOT the end! We still have one part to go…🤭
General Masterlist
Series Masterlist
You observed yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to try and stabilize the nerves you had been feeling all day. You were wearing a short black dress, paired with some Mary Jane's that you had walked on just enough for them not to kill your feet after five minutes anymore.
Jake had taken you to a beautiful fancy restaurant, and he had looked dashing in his suit. You were so incredibly nervous that before you even had the chance to order drinks you had excused yourself and fled to the bathroom.
This was your first official, proper date ever, and you had no idea how to act. Locking eyes with yourself one last time, you took a deep breath and mentally told yourself to get your fucking shit together before heading out there again.
By the time you came back, Jake had already ordered drinks for the two of you. An ice bucket containing a bottle of white wine stood next to the table, and you whispered a 'thank you' as he poured you some while you sat down across from him.
"Thanks." You said softly.
"No problem. The menu's are on their way." He responded, putting the wine bottle back in the bucket and taking a deep breath as he turned his full attention to you.
"So,"
"So..." You repeated your date, a soft chuckle falling from both of your lips. You were glad to not be the only one for whom this was quite intimidating.
"Start with the basic questions?" Jake proposed, an awkward golden retriever like smile on his face. You nodded in agreement, and waited as Jake thought of a question.
"Got any siblings?"
"Two step-brothers." You replied. Jake's brow quirks up. "But I hardly ever see them."
"Oh, does that not bother you?" He asked, genuine concern coating his words. You shrug.
"God no, if anything I'm thankful for it." You joked, but Jake didn't seem to find it funny.
"You wouldn't like a big family, then?"
Wow, wow, wow.
You stared at him, wide-eyed and unsure of what to say. How had this conversation steered towards planning a family so soon?
"I— I don't know. I've never had a very big family, it was always just me and my parents. When they divorced, and my mom re-married, it was a lot. I mean, going from being an only child to two step-brothers... it's a lot of noise. But I only lived with them for two years before moving to LA, so I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, a bit weirded out about how invested Jake seemed to be in this. Harry would've found your joke funny; he doesn't take everything so seriously.
Wait, you shouldn't be thinking about Harry! You were on a date with Jake to forget about Harry, for God's sake. You needed to focus on your date.
And so you did, all throughout dinner you fixate your eyes on the man in front of you and tried to list all the reason why you could go on a second date with him. But unintentionally, you also compared him to Harry in every possible aspect.
Jake was sweet, but there was a lack of initiative. You found yourself disappointed at his replies, knowing Harry would've matched your wit, or understood what you were trying to say. By the time the main dish was being taken away, you were a bit tired. It felt like you have to put in a lot of effort into an attempt at a connection with this guy, especially when you knew how easy it was to have such a connection right off the bat.
You thought you must've been hallucinating when you saw a shadow that looked an awful lot like Harry pass by the window, and it made you realize how much he had been floating in your head. You weren't being fair to Jake, so you decided to round off this date as soon as possible.
"Want dessert?"
"No I'm okay, thank you." You smiled at him.
"Okay, then I'll get the check." He announced.
"We can split, if you want to." You offered, but Jake was quick to shake his head.
"Absolutely not, my treat." He assured you. Cheeks flushed, you nodded, and turned your head to look at the hallway where the restrooms are.
"D'you mind if I go to the restroom then, before we go? I see there's a bit of a line, so I could also go later if you prefer." You pointed to the hallway where about five women were waiting to enter the toilet, but Jake shrugged.
"Go, it's fine, I'll bring the car around. It's parked a bit further away so if I get it now you won't have to walk all the way there in those heels of yours." He suggested, to which you nodded. Grabbing your purse and jacket, you made your way over to the line of women. Surprisingly enough, you only had to wait a minute before it was your turn to go to the bathroom, and in two minutes you were on your way to the front door of the restaurant again.
That was until you were snatched away by someone's hand.
There was not even a possibility to shriek, as your mouth was covered in the first second that you were grabbed and pulled into a coat room. It was only when you got turned around, and spotted Harry's face in the vague light, that you weren't scared for your life anymore. You pulled his hand off your mouth, attempting to push him away from you.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?!" You shout-whispered, heart still pounding. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, but your anxiety from the sudden capture was slowly fading.
"I think that is a better fit question for me to ask you." He growled, pushing you against the wall between the racks full of coat hangers. You looked around you, hearing the mingling people in the restaurant, and realized that there was probably someone working here only a few feet away. "What the fuck are you doing having dinner with some random fucking guy?"
"I'm on a date!" You answered, frustrated with the fact that he was being so uptight about this.
"Yeah, and why the fuck would you do that?!" He hissed, knitted brows displaying the irritation that simultaneously showed in his tight grip on your waist. His hot breath fanning against your ear caused a totally different tension to arise in your stomach.
"Because I'm single, Harry!"
That shut him up. His face softened, and it was hard not to allow your heart to break into pieces as you witnessed that realization dawn on him. You didn't say anything as his eyes averted from you, digesting your words for a couple of seconds. And while the sound of glasses and utensils clinking against each other felt like a meteoric sting in your ears, there didn't seem to be a more deafening silence than this one.
What you didn't expect him to do was lean forward and kiss you, nor did you expect to go along with it so easily. However, at this point you shouldn't have been surprised; Harry turned your body and mind into jelly. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it was bad, but it excited the hell out of you.
The sole thought of Harry being so jealous that he found the restaurant where you were having a date, and pulled you into the coat room to kiss you, had surged an army of butterflies to fly around in your stomach. Something, which you were aware, was absolutely not a proper and healthy reaction to a situation like this. But somehow... Harry made it hot.
And while you didn't like to admit it, you knew that the reason for that was because a part of you hoped that he would do this. You had secretly prayed in the back of your mind that he would come and get you once he realized you were something he could lose. And the fact that he was here now, kissing you and taking his hands all over your body made your cunt ache.
As if he was reading your mind—which you were quite sure at this point he was seriously capable of to some extent—he pulled up your dress and signaled for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He unbuttoned his pants, and you obeyed his wishes immediately, not wanting to waste any time. The fact that he was so incredibly hard only made you more enthusiastic. It was so wrong to have sex with Harry in the coat room while your date was outside waiting for you. Everything involving Harry was wrong... and that's what made it feel so fucking good.
"So wet for me, as always." He whispered into your ear as he entered you in one go. Your mouth hung open and a gasp left your lips, but you managed to keep quiet. The loudest sound was that of his dick thrusting into your wet pussy, with the two of you managing to stay at a surprisingly low volume.
You grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and closed your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure of him driving into you. The sound of footsteps and a coat hanger moving on a rack a few meters away had you squeezing Harry's shoulder. Instead of slowing down like a normal person would do, he took it as the perfect moment to pick up the speed and attach one of his fingers to your clit.
If it wasn't for the quickness of your hand that slapped over your own mouth, you would've moaned so loud that the entire restaurant probably would've heard. There was no time to glare at him, seeing as the pleasure of this devious act was getting all of your attention at the moment. Harry just smirked at you, leaning forward so his lips were next to your ear.
"If it were up to me, I'd have you take that pretty little hand off your mouth and let the entire restaurant hear how good I'm fucking you." He uttered, and you bit your lip to stifle any more moans that were threatening to escape your mouth at any moment.
"Let everyone hear how fucking desperate you are for me, and only me. Because you're mine." The question fell from his lips so confidently, that you didn't think to answer. Harry, displeased with your lack of words, accompanied his words with a hard thrust that had the tiniest whine fall from you lips. Like the devil he was, Harry continued the deep thrusts, edging you guys closer to getting caught. "Aren't you?"
Not daring to open your mouth fueled by the fear of being too loud and getting caught, you showed that you agreed with him by nodding profusely. You squeezed y(our eyes shut, a tear rolling down your cheek as you tried not to pass out from Harry's dick impaling your soaking wet pussy.
"You can say you're single all you want, but this sweet cunt belongs to me. Never had anything like me, and you never will. Can try as much as you want, but you'll always circle back to me." Harry grunted lowly, nails digging further into your skin. His thrusts became more aggressive, bringing you far closer to the edge in a record time.
"You're mine, like it or not."
You must have been sick in the head for that sentence to be the last straw. Because before you knew it, you were entirely falling apart around him. Harry had to put his lips on yours to muffle the sounds that kept coming out of your mouth as you cried and came around his cock. Your hands clamped onto his frame, trying to hold on in the way your legs couldn't.
The consistent clenching of your core around his cock had Harry follow soon after. He refrained himself from making too much noise by burying his head into your neck and softly biting on your skin as he filled you up with his seed. He stayed still inside of you, holding your legs up as you both took a few seconds to come down from your orgasm.
After slowly pulling his cock out of you, Harry put on your underwear quickly. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Keep it inside of you." He ordered, causing you to frown at him.
"Harry, I'm on a d—" you tried to protest, but Harry quickly slapped his hand around your mouth again.
"I don't want to fucking hear it. It wasn't a question. Now, shut up, and do as I say."
Your widened eyes betrayed your underestimation of Harry. Of course, you wanted him to be jealous, but there was a part of you that still thought that he was only playing into the jealousy in a solely sexual sense. Nevertheless, you were too stunned to argue, so you nodded.
Adjusting your dress, you wiped your eyes to rid of the tear stains that had probably appeared in the last minutes. It was hard to stand, your head still misty from the spontaneous coat room sex.
"Go reject him." He demanded as he watched you put on your coat. You stopped in your tracks, your mouth falling open and your head shaking.
"I'm not going to reject him just because—"
"I don't think I posed that as a question either, love." His stern voice intercepted you once again. Your entire brain stopped and had to re-wire at the mention of that nickname, and you were sure it was the only reason you agreed.
With a heavy heart and a fluttering stomach you walked out of the restaurant, nearing Jake's car which was right in front of the door. It felt wrong to smile at him after what you had just done, and it dawned on you; you had become a horrible person. That self-made conclusion stirred you up so bad that you felt you could throw up, and it made you refuse to step into that car. Jake didn't deserve that.
He stepped out of the car, wanting to escort you to the passenger seat, but you stopped him. The grip on his arm made him turn back around, confusion written all over his face.
"I... Thank you so much for the lovely dinner, I really appreciate it. But—"
"But you're rejecting me." He filled in the blanks for you, leaving you speechless for a short second. You nodded slowly, and were grateful to see an empathic smile appearing on Jake's face. "Already? I haven't even given you a ride home yet."
You both chuckled at his joke, and as it died down, you tried to find his eyes. "I really did have a fun tonight, so thank you."
"You're welcome, I guess?" He stifled a laugh. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home?"
You shook your head. "No, I'm okay, really. I live very close anyway."
Jake nodded, and you said your goodbyes to him. You felt like a dickhead, and the fact that he had taken it so well had only made your guilt worse. It was horrible to watch him drive away, and Harry's approving voice from behind you didn't make you feel better either.
"Good girl, knew you'd listen."
You turned around, a look of pure thunder on your face as your eyes met Harry's. You stepped closer to him, pace picking up with every step.
"Get out of my face." You sneered, walking past him and down the street back towards your apartment. You heard Harry's footsteps start to follow you, and while that granted you a bit of satisfaction, it didn't fade the anger towards him or yourself in the slightest bit.
"Sweetheart—"
"Fuck you." You spat out, annoyed with the amount of impact of his nicknames for you had on you and your body.
"What the fuck happened? You were fine ten minutes ago." Harry called out, still walking a meter behind you. His words made you stop in your tracks, turning around to face him.
"What happened is that I realized what a horrible fucking person I've become, Harry! I just had sex with another guy while I was on a date with someone, that is so not okay!" You snapped. You took a deep breath, awaiting Harry's reaction, but he only stared at you. You couldn't quite make up anything specific from the manner in which he was observing you, but it for sure made you squirm.
“I’m not just some other guy.” He argued, distaste in the tone of his voice. He didn’t like the way it sounded so disposable.
“That doesn’t matter! It’s still a shitty thing to do… and I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair.
Silence took over the conversation. It was hard to look at Harry, you almost didn't dare to. There was a big part of you that never wanted this fling with him to end, but after tonight, you realized it was the only way to build up something new. You had gotten into this thing to distract yourself from the guy you were in love with, but now that you had finally seen the light and were far into the process of moving on, it seemed like it didn't serve much of a purpose anymore.
Besides, ever since that last hook-up, you weren't sure for how long it could stay casual before you'd start to develop feelings for this man. And that was something that absolutely couldn't happen.
“Harry, I am looking for something serious. You can’t give that to me, because you don’t want to, so I need to end this.” You explained, trying to search his gaze but he was making it impossible for you to look him in the eyes as he was furiously shaking his head.
“Why are you acting like you’re ending a relationship? We’re not in one.”
“Says the person who pushed me into a coat room because he was jealous.” You crossed your arms, seeing right through his bullshit and the dumb wall he’s putting up.
"Well… I don't like seeing you with other people." Was the only thing that fell from Harry's lips. His furrowed brows revealing the confusion that lingered in the delivery of the words as well. He wasn't sure of how to express what he was feeling, but the vagueness of the words he did communicate wasn't improving this situation at all.
“That’s very boyfriend material of you.” You tried to joke, a small smile forming on your lips. Harry’s mouth quirked up as well despite the frown on his face.
“I am not boyfriend material.” He chuckled.
"I know, it’s why I’m not even considering asking you to be something like that. I know you wouldn’t want to. " You smiled, and Harry nodded. His eyes were clearer now and it wasn’t as hard for him to look you in the eyes anymore.
“Alright.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Like there was nothing left to do about it. That this was it, in the blink of an eye, and that it was all concluded with a simple shrug of the shoulders.
It made your heart sting, but upon feeling it you knew that you had made the right decision. If you hadn’t ended it now, that sting would’ve developed into full grown heart ache, and Harry was the wrong person to develop that for.
“Alright.” You repeated, looking for some sort of doubt in his eyes, but there seemed to be none. So you let it rest. Turning your attention to the street, you flagged down a cab.
“I’m going home, I’ll see you around?”
“I can take you home, you know, you don’t have to take a cab.” Harry offered, but you were quick to shake your head.
“No, that would be too boyfriend-like of you.” You grinned, and Harry sighed at your attempt at a joke. You opened the door of the cab.
“Fine. See you around.” He put his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the front of the cab. He tapped on the window where your taxi driver was sitting and handed him some money, too much for a single short cab ride. He told the taxi driver to keep it, as long as he’d bring you home safe. The driver, a kind man from what you’d gathered so far, thanked Harry and assured him that he would do his job.
Harry’s eyes flicked to the backseat, meeting yours one last time, and threw a wink at you. You felt inclined to roll your eyes, but you didn’t, the moment feeling a bit too sentimental to bash Harry for winking at you. It was the last time you were seeing him, being what you two were, and it made you kind of melancholic. Nevertheless, you reminded yourself it was for the better. Besides, you were sure you’d see him around…
Taglist: @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @sassamanda77
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leonawriter · 5 months ago
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It's a normal day in school - that is to say, school in Ekoda, Japan, since if he were in education in England he'd currently be attending college rather than the equivalent of Secondary education. More to the point, Saguru has been in and out of Japan often enough that the simple task of working in a teacher-assigned group was proving... difficult.
Their teacher must have noticed that although he could get along with almost any of the others merely by being polite, Kuroba did tend to act out less around him. Because they had been put in the same group, and expected to work together.
Only fifteen minutes in, however, and he could tell that things weren't working out. When Kuroba wasn't being belligerent, he was outright ignoring him.
Four and a half minutes later, and Kuroba wasn't even anywhere to be seen. Most likely he was somewhere nearby still, but the possibility remained that he'd simply taken off.
It was a state of affairs that had Saguru unable to stifle a sigh, no matter his relief that Aoko was still there with him.
"I get the impression," he said quietly, "that Kuroba-kun actively dislikes me. Perhaps I should have a word with the teacher and dissuade her from pairing us together, in future."
For an entire two minutes and thirty five seconds, Aoko didn't say anything. He glanced over, only to see her frowning.
"Really...? Aoko... isn't sure."
He blinks, confused and surprised. Surely she should have picked up on the awkward tension between them, by now-?
"Really?" He said dryly. "He can't ever seem to get rid of me fast enough."
It didn't matter how long it had been since the way he'd acted when they'd first met, or how he'd changed since then. Kuroba had made up his mind, and Saguru would be lying if he said that it did not, from time to time, hurt.
Aoko again took her time to think of how to respond.
"Kaito... Aoko thought he'd stopped doing that ages ago. He used to, after-" she cut herself off, but he could fill in the blanks. Kuroba's father was dead, after all, and grief did things to people. To children, especially. "He pushes people away when he thinks they're getting too close. He tried to push me and 'tou-san away too, but we're stubborn, and he doesn't bother anymore. But you didn't hear Aoko say any of that."
"Of course."
Kuroba didn't return for the rest of their classes.
Later that evening, Nakamori called with the news that a notice had somehow been delivered. Fairly straightforward, but in being so easily read it was also easy to read into it - the heist was due to take place once Saguru was supposed to already be back in London again.
The pieces were falling into place. He still had many missing, and it would be preferable to get confirmation from Kuroba himself (or Kid, if the case may be), but it was a working theory.
"It's a damn shame you won't be here," Nakamori was saying in the here and now, Saguru's attention snapping back to the problem at hand. "Could do with your help."
"No need for that," he heard himself say. "I'll be there."
It wouldn't take too much, to cancel his plans.
He was sure that the Kaitou Kid Task Force likely thought that the smile on his face was the result of him thinking of innovative new ways to trip Kid up - and in a way, they weren't wrong. Kid couldn't possibly be expecting Saguru to have decided that like hell was he just going to let himself be pushed away like that; now that he knew what was needed, he'd be as stubborn as it took.
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morbific-or-felicific · 10 months ago
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-AGNOSTHESIA PART 3 Featuring Scaramouche’s
Part 1 Part2
Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person
Word Count: 2.6k~
Description: After you almost fail your midterm Scaramouche decides to punish you
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
Join The Tag List
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You were in the library, sitting across the table from your boyfriend. You could feel his eyes on you while you read through the notes he had helped you make. The two of you had a midterm in half an hour, and you were hoping to at least get a seventy five…however out of reach that may be.
“You know, if you don’t know the material by now, you aren’t going to magically learn it in the next thirty minutes.”
You let out a sigh and met your boyfriend's gaze.
“Are you going to let me stop studying then?”
“Do you really think you can afford to stop? You do know how stupid you are, right?”
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and returned your focus to your notes.
As you studied, Scaramouche lazily scrolled through his phone, texting and watching videos. It frustrated you to no end to know that, despite his lack of effort, he would no doubt earn the highest mark in the class. Meanwhile, you* were working as hard as you possibly could while still running the risk of failing, with Scaramouche’s ominous threat of ‘punishment’ hanging over your head.
You barely noticed when Scaramouche started gathering his things to head to class, having to have him snap his fingers in front of your face to break your focus. Finally, you gathered your notes, and the two of you made your way to class.
~ ♡ ~
Although you swore you had only spent twenty minutes writing the test, you supposed the full hour and a half must have passed since everyone who was still writing was instructed to hand in their tests. You had managed to finish just in time, but you weren’t feeling very good about how you had done.
You made your way out of the classroom to where your boyfriend had been waiting for you, laying across a few chairs he had somehow come into possession of. As you got closer to him, he looked up from his phone and stood up. He was happy to see you but also rather concerned about how upset you looked.
“How did it go?”
He spoke with uncharacteristic softness and concern.
“I don’t think it went very well…”
You felt rather hopeless about the whole situation and had already resigned yourself to failure.
“Come on, with how hard you’ve worked? I’m sure that you did just fine.”
You didn’t respond, choosing to instead stare dejectedly at the floor. Scaramouche offered a soft smile.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. We can go get food and watch a movie.”
You stayed silent for a moment, thinking over the proposal.
“That actually sounds really nice.”
“Come on then.”
He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.
~ ♡ ~
It had been exactly nineteen days since you had taken your midterm, and you had finally been emailed the results. You sat at your computer staring at the unopened email. You knew that you had probably failed, but you didn’t want to know that you had actually failed. You took a deep breath, did your best to relax your body, and opened the email. You scanned through the words and eventually found your results. You had passed. You swore you had never felt so relieved in your life. Granted, you had only gotten a 58, but that was more than enough for you. You wiped away a few tears of relief and flopped back in your chair. You took out your phone and called your boyfriend.
“Hello-”
“I passed.”
“Seriously?!”
“Yes!”
“Well that’s no surprise. You have me as your tutor, afterall.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face. Although he was clearly trying to hide it, pride was evident in his voice.
“Thank you, baby.”
You heard Scaramouche let out a little puff of air from his nose.
“Wanna come over so we can celebrate?”
“I guess I can.”
“Did you pass?”
“Is that even a question?”
“Well congratulations, you are the reason everyone hates being marked on a curve.”
You actually heard your boyfriend laugh at that.
“It’s not my fault you’re all inept.”
“Are you coming or not?”
There was a brief silence.
“I’ll bring food.”
“See you at 5:00?”
“Alright, love you.”
And with that, he hung up. You sighed and sent an “I love you too” text.
You spent the rest of your day doing some chores and some reading, and eventually, Scaramouche was knocking on your door. He brought an obscene amount of sushi, and somehow, the two of you managed to eat all of it.
It was a nice evening. Scaramouche was in a surprisingly good mood(he wouldn’t admit it, but he was quite pleased that you had managed to pass your midterm), and there wasn’t anything left to stress about.
The two of you sat on your couch, scrolling through streaming services. You were nestled under your boyfriend’s arm as he navigated to netflix and started scrolling through movies.
“So what movie do you want to watch?”
“Pride and-”
“No.”
“But you said I could pick!”
“Only if you pick a good movie.”
“You haven’t even seen it!”
“Too bad. I’m picking now.”
You sighed but didn’t really protest. You usually ended up liking whatever movies he chose anyway. This time, however, you had gotten somewhat bored about halfway through “Inception” and decided to grab your phone to scroll through whatever app seemed interesting.
“You know, if you’re bored, we can do something else.”
The prospect of doing something different admittedly interested you, so you decided to go along with it.
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
A small smile made its way onto Scaramouche’s face as he stood up, turning off the tv and reaching out his hand to you. You took it and followed him to your bedroom. You certainly weren’t going to complain if he wanted to reward you for passing. As you stood at the end of your bed, he stood away from you, leaning against the now closed door.
“Take off your clothes.”
You blushed, slightly embarrassed by how blunt he was but did as you were told anyway. You began to pull your shirt over your head when he stopped you.
“No. Slowly.”
You looked away from him, even more embarrassed now, and started slowly sliding your hands up your sides, bunching up your shirt as you brought it farther up your body. You pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the ground beside you. Next, you undid the button on your pants and slid the zipper down, but before you could begin to slide them down your legs, you were stopped once again by yet another command.
“Turn around.”
You silently obeyed and turned to face away from him as you slid your pants off, bending at the waist, knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted from you. When you finally kicked off your pants, you turned back around to face Scaramouche. He had a little smirk resting on his face, and you could now see a bulge beginning to make itself known in his pants. Despite the number of times the two of you had fucked, you were still embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him.
“Why are you stopping?”
Your blush darkened as you reached behind you to undo your bra, letting it fall to the ground and then turning around once again to slide off your panties. Scaramouche bit his lip as he watched you. Fuck, you were so good for him. It’s too bad he had to punish you for almost failing your midterm, not that you were aware of that yet.
You turned around once again to face your boyfriend, and he began to move towards your closet, where he kept a few things for situations such as these. You were a little confused as to why he would want to use any of those things when he was rewarding you, but you didn’t question him. You fully trusted Scaramouche and knew he would never hurt you… well, unless you wanted him to. You continued not to question him when he brought out a coil of rope and told you to get on your hands and knees on the bed.
Although, you were still confused. He knows that you like being able to touch him, so why would he be using rope? You finally decided to question his actions when he had finished tying you up, a bad choice on your part. He had just finished the last knot when you piped up.
“Uh, why are you tying me up?”
“Because stupid little whores don’t get to touch me.”
Okay, now you were very confused.
“But I thought-”
“Dumb girls who almost fail their exams don’t get rewarded.”
His words would hurt if you didn’t know how proud of you he was.
“But-”
You felt his hand land hard and heavy on your ass, and your words morphed into a little shout of pain. You tried to wiggle away from him, but with your calves tied to your thighs and your hands tied behind your back, you couldn’t move an inch. You felt his hand land again on the other side of your ass as he reiterated his point.
“Don’t you think brainless sluts should get punished? I’m sure it’ll help get some sense into that empty head of yours.”
You could hear the smile in his voice. You heard him step away, and with you unable to move, you had no idea what was coming next. As his footsteps came closer again, you felt a finger run along your slit.
“You’re so wet already, pathetic.”
Your cheeks were burning. As he began to play with your clit, you started to let out little moans and whines. Fuck, he was good at that. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers starting to push in and out of you rhythmically. If he kept going, you were going to cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt so good. It felt like he was turning off your brain. All you wanted was for him to make you cum, and maybe for his cock to be inside of you. That would be nice too.
“Fuck, master, I’m going to cum!”
As soon as those words left your mouth, his fingers had been removed from you.
“No! Please! I need it! Please, let me cum!”
You were so close. You needed it so bad. Scaramouche knew that, and frankly, he couldn’t care less. Stupid girls don’t get to cum.
He teased you like this for at least half an hour, although it felt like an eternity. He kept bringing you to the edge just to steal away your end with a derisive laugh.
“Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound?”
You let out a particularly pathetic whine.
“‘Oh, master, please let me cum! I’ll be a good girl, please!’. You’d be worthless if you didn’t feel so good on my cock.”
Warm tears slid down your face, but you could feel yourself get wetter at his words. Scaramouche walked around the bed so he could take your face in his hands.
“Fuck, you look pretty when you cry.”
More tears ran down your face, despite the warmth you felt from his words.
“I should just keep you tied up so you can cry for me and be a good little fleshlight. That sounds nice, right, slut?”
You nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He laughed and walked back behind you. You tried to wiggle away, but you were still helplessly at his mercy.
You heard the clicking sounds of him taking off his belt, and you felt adrenaline shoot through your body. Finally, you were going to feel his cock inside of you.
However, your hopes were quickly dashed when you felt the harsh sting of a belt hit your ass. You screamed. Scaramouche laughed.
“You like that, don’t you, princess?”
You cried louder now, the sound only serving to make your boyfriend more turned on. Once again, you felt his belt come into harsh contact with your ass.
“Count.”
You let out a little shout of pain as another hit came.
“One!”
Your counting was followed by a whimper of pain and a light laugh from Scaramouche. Then the belt came down again.
“Two!”
You whimpered in pain, and your fists clenched behind your back, your nails digging into your palms. You didn’t know how long this would continue for, but you were ready to take whatever he chose to give you, as you always did.
Three more hits came from his belt, each one followed by a shot of pain and a number.
“Five!”
You readied yourself for another hit, but it never came. You jumped when you felt him gently rest his hand between your shoulders, slowly tracing his way down to your waist. Suddenly, he removed his hand, and you could hear him stepping away. He came to sit on the bed in front of you. He rested a hand on your cheek once again and leaned into you.
“Do you want to cum? Hmm?”
He smiled at you mockingly. You nodded emphatically.
“Please! I need to cum, master! Need it so bad!”
He couldn’t help but snicker at how pathetic you sounded.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then okay. I’ll make you cum, sweetheart.”
Fuck. If he’s saying yes, there has to be a catch… unless… was he done punishing you? You quickly got your answer when your boyfriend stood and walked back to where you couldn’t see him.
You heard him fiddling with something, and after a few moments, you felt something cold and plastic run up your slit a few times, collecting your wetness before finally pushing inside of you.
You knew what was coming, but you couldn’t stop the whine that you let out when the dildo started vibrating intensely. You started whining and moaning, not being prepared for the pleasure. Scaramouche walked in front of you once again, this time with a ballgag in hand. He pushed it inside of your mouth and tied it behind your head.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”
And with that, you could hear your boyfriend walk out of the room and close the door, his light laughter trailing behind him. You tried to call out to your boyfriend, but everything came out garbled between broken moans. He wouldn’t leave you tied up for too long… right?
~ ♡ ~
You had no idea how long you had been left tied up like this, and you had lost count of how many times you had come. All that you knew was that you were exhausted. Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door clicked open. He was back. Without saying a word, he turned off the vibrations and gently pulled out the toy. He walked around to sit in front of you and untied the gag, removing it from your mouth.
“Did you learn your lesson, princess?”
He smiled as if he were talking to a child. You nodded your head.
“Mhm!”
“Good girl.”
He stroked his thumb on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. He started to untie you, going through all the knots until you were finally free. You stretched your sore limbs as Scaramouche left the room in search of a warm cloth.
Eventually, he reappeared with a warm cloth and an extra blanket. He cleaned you up and wrapped you in the soft blanket before carrying you back to the couch so the two of you could finish the movie.
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Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @izzalovesdilfs @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez @k4ze3e @kenmabfasf @vvyeislazzy @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @hopeless-smvt @bloomingheartz @crazydreamcat @kazumiku @str4wb3rizz @kyon-cherri @ravereina @ashrodisiac
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morbific-or-felicific.
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hannieehaee · 8 months ago
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DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)
release date: april 17th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
...
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napakmahal · 6 months ago
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I’d never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you
Pairing: Hiro Hamada/reader
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Trigger warnings: heavy talks of grief and loss, depression (chat unfortunately Tadashi has died in this one)
“I don’t get why we’re driving two hours away just for therapy.” Hiro was becoming pissed off at his aunt's insistence that he go to therapy at least once a week either in person or on the phone. He liked phone therapy better, the crackling audio made it easier to hide slight twinges in his voice.
“It’s part of your plan, remember? Your doctor said that’s how we get you the best care possible and you agreed to try it, remember?” Cass pressed. Of course Hiro remembered, he remembered how bad it pissed him off. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? He said he was fine, that should have been enough.
In one month Hiro had been passed around to three different therapists of different genders, nationalities, and backgrounds to try and connect with him better. None of them worked and it was becoming increasingly clearer that one-on-one therapy just wasn’t for him. He didn’t talk and when he did he lied. Plus, one-on-one with somebody twenty years older than him who’d forgotten what it was like to be fifteen or said stupid shit like “he’s in a better place now.” wasn’t super helpful.
So enter group therapy. Just a big circle of teens talking about their problems like a pubescent al-anon. Hiro may have been pissed but Cass had a right to be concerned. With him not going to school he had nothing to occupy his time. She’d wake up early to open the cafe and he’d already be up on his phone. And she knew for a fact he wasn’t getting any sleep. He’d sleep all day and eat nothing before being up all night and eating anything that was quiet enough she wouldn’t hear him.
“Just seems kinda pointless.” He sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. “I’m fine, everyone’s just being so dramatic.”
Cass didn’t respond to that. She just leaned over and grabbed onto her nephew’s hand and kissed his palm. “Did you take your drops today?”
“Mmhm.” Hiro lied.
After the blast an EMT on sight noticed that Hiro’s right ear was bleeding from the pressure while he was taken to the hospital for possible concussion. For weeks after that all he could hear was a persistent ringing but thankfully he hadn’t lost his hearing and the fall had hurt his shoulder blades more than it’d hurt his head. After his brain scan in the hospital his doctor had told him how lucky he was. Hiro swore that if he ever got diagnosed with a stroke, he’d pray he wasn’t his doctor.
They pulled up to another branch of their hospital and parked out front and just in the truck silently.
“Can we go home now?” Hiro spoke up.
Cass let out a breathy laugh and looked over at him. “The program lasts ten weeks, if you make it to five and still want out then okay. Deal?” She held out her hand.
Hiro thought about it for a moment. Five weeks of keeping his mouth shut and letting other people talk about their problems for an hour and a half sounded like a solid enough idea. So he and his aunt shook on it.
Five weeks, just gotta make it five weeks.
They walked into the building with Cass’s arm draped over Hiro’s still healing shoulders. The second they arrived at the receptionists desk a tablet was shoved in their faces. “Sit down, fill out the online questionnaire.”
The questions were always the same:
In the past week I felt mad: sometimes, always, never, often
I worried something bad might happen: sometimes, always, never, often
I felt like I couldn’t do anything right: sometimes, always, never, often
I or people around me participated in substance abuse: I did, my friends and I did, my parents did, none of the above
Have you ever been diagnosed antidepressants: yes or no
Have you made any attempt to commit suicide or thought of commiting suicide within the past week: yes or no
It took Hiro a total of seven minutes to complete the questionnaire without putting any thought into his answers. When it was the ‘parent/guardian’ portion Cass took forever to finish.
When the questionnaire was filled out, a woman in a blue blouse and a key card walked over to them. She asked with sweetness, “Hiro?”
She introduced herself as Dr. Yang and walked Hiro and Cass all the way to her personal office. The walls were covered with older teens graduation photos, kindergarten drawings, and fidget toys on her shelves.
“I know you’re here for group, but because your previous doctors told us that you’ve never done group therapy before I just wanna give you the low down. Is that okay?” Dr. Yang looked at Hiro. He just nodded with a smile. Of course it was okay, he was here wasn’t he? She explained about how some of the kids had been doing groups with her before and how privacy in group settings worked. Hiro was all fine listening to all the foundational stuff until she started getting too personal.
Dr. Yang looked directly at him. “So, Hiro. Can we just talk a little bit about why you’re here? I was informed by one of your previous doctors that your brother just passed away recently. I’m so sorry for your loss, I’m sure it was hard.”
“It’s okay, thanks.” Hiro finally spoke up. It wasn’t okay but it made everyone less uncomfortable if he just said it was okay. “But I guess I’ve just been like- sad for a while.”
“And that’s perfectly alright.”
That was the thing that pissed Hiro off the most. How his therapists would reassure him that it was okay to be sad. No shit it was okay to be sad, somebody died! He knew that and having people say that to him made him feel like he was being treated like an idiot.
The two of them talked for a bit until Dr. Yang sent him out of the office so she could speak with Cass alone. One therapist had invited her into the room to ask her about her perspective and she ended up basically sobbing–which Hiro felt really bad about. It just went to show that she’d been spending a shit-ton of time worrying about him yet nobody was really worried about her.
Hiro walked over to the room his group would be meeting. Waiting for the pre-meeting with Dr. Yang and his aunt to be over when he saw you already sitting there. You looked up towards the door at the sound of footsteps. You two exchanged smiles but didn’t say anything to each other and Hiro took the seat two chairs away from you. It was awkward.
“Are you new?” You asked, trying to break the silence.
Hiro paused as if he was shocked you were talking to him but answered. “Yeah, this is my first group therapy session.”
“Cool, cool.” You nodded.
Awkward silence again.
This time Hiro spoke up first. “I like your shoes.”
“Oh thanks. Yours are cool too.” You pointed to his sneakers. The laces obviously didn’t come with the shoes when he bought them. He must have replaced them but they looked kinda cool. The session didn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes in that room in awkward silence sounded vile. “Do you want a lemonade pop? I know where they keep them.”
“Uhh, sure.” He agreed for the exact same reason you asked. The silence was deafening.
After you snuck your way into the first aid room and grabbed two lemonade pops from the freezer, you two sat down on the stool of one of the larger windows.
“So what are you here for?” You brought the frozen treat up to your lips.
Hiro was still trying to open his when he said, “Because I’m sad.”
“We’re all sad, you’ll fit right in.” You joked. Hiro genuinely let out a small laugh at that which felt nice. “No but pretty much everyone here is chill.”
“How many times have you done this?” He took a small scrape of the pop with his front teeth.
“This will be my second program and my last. I mostly know a lot of the other people here from school.” You shrugged. “Where do you go to school?”
He answered quickly, “I’m not in school right now.”
“Oh.”
Shit. Now you probably think he’s some kind of degenerate high school dropout.
“I just haven’t registered.” He added immediately after.
You licked the side of your pop to keep it from melting onto your clothes. “Did you move?”
“No, not exactly.” Hiro had realized he’d accidentally opened up a can of worms into his personal life for you.
Intrigued, you pressed him for more details. “What happened?”
“I got accepted somewhere, I just need to register.” Perfect, vague yet descriptive.
Damn. He must go to some kind of private school. Why else would he use the word accepted? You joked, “Damn rich people.”
Hiro nearly laughed. Rich? They were relatively low income and only saved thousands of dollars a year on car payments because he could fix their truck for free. Years ago after one of Cass’s friends paid her daughters 20,000 dollar tuition she told both Hiro and Tadashi that she would not be paying for any tuition. She’d pay for books, parking spots, and the occasional on campus meal. But never tuition. Just her luck Tadashi got his fifty-thousand dollar scholarship plus financial aid and Hiro got a full-ride. If he ever planned on using it.
“We aren’t rich, trust me.” He laughed to himself.
“Private school kids are rich to some degree.” You shrugged. Denying their richness is kind of a rich people thing to do.
His eyebrows contorted with confusion as he looked at you. “I didn’t get into a private school.”
“You said you were accepted.” Now it was your turn to be confused.
“Yeah, accepted to college.” He explained slowly.
You stared at him blankly. There was no way. “College? How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Bullshit.” You shot immediately right after. “I don’t believe you. That’s bullshit. You are bullshit.”
A smile tugged further at Hiro’s lips. “I swear I’m not lying. I got accepted to SFIT.”
“Why are you really here? Is it actually because you’re a pathological liar?” You drilled. Graduating early wasn’t super uncommon but graduating early and getting accepted to a prestigious university like SFIT was insanity. “You’re telling me you graduated at fifteen and got accepted to a top school like SFIT?”
“Well I actually graduated at thirteen.”
“You are such a liar!” You reiterated once again. If he graduated at thirteen that must have meant he was nine when he started high school. No fucking way. “Prove it to me.”
“Well my acceptance letter is at home but sure I’ll show it to you.” He finished up his lemonade pop and licked the remaining ice chunk off the stick.
You scoffed. “And give you time to print a fake one out? No, the second you get home send me a picture of it.”
Just like that you exchanged phone numbers. While typing in each other's numbers Hiro realized this was the first time he’d laughed with someone in weeks and it actually felt really nice. But it was overridden by a feeling of guilt. Why did he feel so guilty? He just laughed with someone he found funny. Why did feeling a small bit of true joy after his brother's death make him feel so obnoxious? Almost like he was rubbing it in someone's face. Or like he was doing it to purposely hurt someone.
It’s weird thinking you know loss but then life gives you the finger and proves you wrong. Hiro lost both his parents, that’s plenty of loss for anyone. But he was only three when it happened so what did he really understand about it? Hiro has always been told he’s smart and rightfully so. With an IQ of roughly 210 it’s a correct assumption to make. But if losing his brother has taught him anything, it’s that he knows nothing about shit that really matters.
Hiro really hated the waves. A brochure on grieving a doctor had given him said that the heaviness of grief episodes will wax and wane. In good there will be bad but in bad there will be good. But it will never be the same. Talking with you actually felt like something that wasn’t soul crushing numbness but a wave of guilt and overthinking immediately followed it.
Nothing would ever be the same.
While Hiro was wrestling with such a random wave of heavy feelings you looked up from typing his number into your phone. “Wait, I just realized I don’t know your name.”
He snapped out of his small daze and looked you dead in the eyes. “Hiro,” He gave you a small smile and held out his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Hiro.”
You gracefully smiled back at him and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Hiro. I’m y/n.”
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pinkanonwrites · 2 years ago
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Stargazers, New and Old
Another Vash fic! Forgive me, TWST Fans, I’m so deep in the paint on this guy it isn’t even funny.
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Vash the Stampede/Reader, +3,000 Words, GN!Reader, Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Stargazing
Through your shared time as drifters, you and Vash had spent plenty of time together beneath the stars.
Granted, it was usually from the roof of whatever cheap hotel the two of you were staying at for the night, tearing into snacks and idly chatting about whatever Vash had or hadn’t accidentally managed to blow up that day. There’d even be a celebration sometimes, if things went right! Townsfolk would spill into the street, drinking and dancing and celebrating another one of Vash’s many perfectly timed victories as they piled your table high with heaped praise and overflowing mugs of alcohol. As hectic as they could end up being, you often got plenty of enjoyment out of the fuss, watching Vash stumble around sheepish and drunk as his praises were sung up to the starry evening sky.
But if you honestly had to choose? You’d say you enjoyed nights like these much better.
Sometimes Gunsmoke’s two suns would sink deep into the horizon and the two of you would find yourselves between towns, lost to the sands of the evening desert. Not too often, really. Usually Vash was quick to make sure you had at least the basic amenities readily nearby: food, running water, a creaky old motel mattress that was only barely better than sleeping on the floor. He was fine going without them for an evening or two, but he hated to put you out in any way. But sometimes you’d get stopped up along the way, or have to stealth around a bandit camp, or get distracted watching wild Thomases scamper up and down the sandy hillsides, and end up somewhere in the empty desert, iles from the nearest town.
Luckily both of you were prepared for this kind of thing at this point, Vash even proudly showing off some of his little “survival trinkets” he’d scooped up before meeting you, like a miniature campfire set that packed away into a pocket-sized tin.
“Ta-da!” And that was where the two of you found yourselves now, tucked around the fire at the base of a large dune, Vash presenting you with a metal camping mug full of instant noodles with all the pride and bravado of a chef presenting a five-course meal. “Your majesty, may I present…. Dinner!”
"Why thank you, chef." You took the mug with both hands, letting the warm metal soothe the calluses on your palms. As Vash prepared himself a mug you cracked him a sly smile. "Or are you more my court jester?"
"What, was 'knight in shining armor' already taken?" He chuckled, cupping his own mug in his gloved palms and sipping carefully. "YEOWCH! Still pretty hot! Be careful, m'kay?"
"I will." You blew on your own cup of broth before sipping it. Shuffling over a bit, you let yourself lean heavily into Vash’s side, leeching his excess body heat. A single glance up showed the rosy-red blush that began to creep across his face at the contact, but you chose not to comment on it. “It’s really amazing how cold the desert can get during the night.”
“It’s actually because there’s no humidity. Without the water in the air to hold the heat, it cools off a lot faster.” Vash took another slow slurp of his noodles, staring out over the vast landscape beyond your tiny fire. “Deathly hot in the daytime, dangerously cold in the night… It’s a really formidable place.” A familiar, distant expression overtook Vash’s face at that. He did his best to hide it from you but you’d long since caught on to it, those moments where his walls faltered and you could damn near watch in real time as the melancholy of a man who had seen far too much began to creep in along the edges.
“And yet, here we are.” You simply responded, gesturing to the small campfire with your mug before holding it up to Vash. You never really felt like you could offer him much in these moments, simple placations and apologies feeling far too hollow. But at the very least, you could offer this. “Cheers to surviving? Despite everything?”
He chuckled, low, soft, and tired, bringing his cup up to yours to clink the metal rims together. “Despite everything.”
You let your head thump gently against Vash’s shoulder, the two of you absorbing the cool silence of the desert night. There was little need for words between sips of noodles and broth; the silence with Vash never crept into uncomfortable. As the fire and your supper dwindled in unison the sky inched ever further towards utter blackness. With no towns within a good dozen or so iles in any direction the deep velveteen shades of space were even more apparent than usual, long strips of indigo and blue speckled with pinpoints of distant light. 
“All done?” Vash finally spoke up, taking your empty mug from your outstretched hand. “I’ll take care of these if you want to get the sleeping bags ready.”
“Sure.” 
The first few times you had slept out beneath the stars, you were adamant about having your sleeping bag a reasonable distance away from Vash’s. ‘Personal space,’ you insisted, even as he joked that you’d be too wooed by his natural charms if you slept any closer. But over time you just couldn’t help yourself. Getting to know Vash, to really know him, seemed to go hand in hand with your own sleeping bag drifting ever so slightly closer and closer to his with each passing night. Now you barely even blinked as you rolled the two of them out, side by side.
With a belly full of warm food and the promise of a cozy place to sleep ahead, the exhaustion seemed to wash over you in a sudden, leaden wave. You barely had the energy to kick your shoes off, shuffling yourself awkwardly into the bag until it was pulled nearly up to your chin. When Vash turned back around from putting your mugs away he barked out a short, surprised laugh.
“Comfy in there?”
You nodded, biting back a yawn as your eyelids fluttered. You watched through bleary lashes as Vash put the cap over the top of the pocket bonfire, snuffing the flame with a soft hiss and plunging his silhouette into moonlight. You could catch the vague shimmer off of his glasses lenses, the glint on the pauldron of his prosthetic arm, and the barest hint of a soft smile by the light of the five moons.
“I’ll finish cleaning up, why don’t you get some sleep?”
You nodded again, humming softly as you let your eyes slip fully shut and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. “Mhm… Thank you, Vash.”
You swore that as the comfortable fuzz of sleep crept further into the edges of your mind, you felt a warm, metallic hand pat you gently atop your head.
And then, blackness.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You normally slept incredibly well with Vash by your side, safe in the knowledge that whatever may happen, he’d be there to protect you.
Which is why it came as a bit of a shock to you when you jerked suddenly awake, the fog of some already-fading nightmare seeping away from your consciousness. Even as you struggled to recall it the details continued to slip away, flashes of smoke and gunmetal and blond hair streaked with clumped, drying blood all that remained on the peripheries of your subconscious. It left you as most nightmares do, feeling hollow and distinctly paranoid.
The chill in the air certainly didn’t help either. Even within the plush confines of your sleeping bag you could feel the cold cutting through, leaving your entire body tense and shivery, muscles aching. You certainly wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.
But just as you saw fit to roll over and curse your bad luck, you noticed Vash. He was sat upright, leaning back on the heels of his palms, sleeping bag pooled around his waist as he tipped his head up towards the night sky. His face was lit in profile by cool, white moonlight, and without his familiar tinted lenses on you could see the reflection of a thousand little stars in his aqua-colored eyes. A look of incredible serenity was upon his face. You almost hated to disturb it.
But at some point he must have felt your eyes trained upon him, because he turned his attention to you, and that distant, moony gaze seemed to focus into something soft and concerned.
“What are you still doing up?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” You sat up and immediately regretted it, the frosty wind cutting straight through your thin, linen shirt. “Aren’t we getting up early tomorrow to beat the heat?”
“Yeah… Guess I just couldn’t sleep, is all.”
“Me neither.”
You fell silent again, following Vash’s gaze as it trailed back up towards the marbled sky. Shivering, you tucked your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them as your eyes flit back and forth across those tiny, oh so distant specks of light. It was hard to even imagine that each one was just like one of your two suns, even harder to imagine that somewhere out there is where humans originally came from. Was Earth somewhere in this milky spiral of stars? Could you find it, one day, if you really looked hard enough? Or was it already too far gone, too distant or dim or lost to the hubris of the people who came long before you? You supposed you’d never really know for sure.
“Do you know any constellations?”
You startled a bit when Vash broke the silence, and just barely in the moonlight you could see him put up his hands as a sort of ‘Sorry!’ gesture. He’d had time to adjust to the dark, so maybe he could see you better than you could see him. 
“Not really.” You replied. “I know what some of them are called but I could never figure out how you were supposed to find them.”
“Want me to show you? It’s really not that hard, if you know what to look for.”
You nodded, scooting your sleeping bag as close to Vash as you could get. He wrapped his right arm around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, reaching up towards the sky with his prosthetic. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, thrumming like an old yet sturdy machine. He outstretched a single finger, a thin glow of blue-green energy pulsing beneath the metal as he pointed.
“See that bright one, right there?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant to break the silence of the vast desert. “Follow my arm, it’s gonna be just at the tip of my finger.”
“I…Think so? Is it just to the left of that kinda red one?”
“There you go! That’s the main point of Luridae, the Scorpion. It’s supposed to be the tip of the tail. If you draw a line to the one right below it, then the one below that, you follow the trail and make like, an upside-down hook shape. Seven stars.”
“But how is that supposed to be a scorpion?”
“You’ve gotta use your imagination!” He laughed at your furrowed brow, moving his hand a bit further to the right and up. “If you can find Luridae you can find Sula, the Spear. That’s an easy one, it’s those five stars in a straight line, see? It points right towards the tail.”
You squinted, trying your best to follow Vash’s instructions. Sure enough, just up and to the right of that bright star was a line of five, neat in a row like someone had sketched them up there.
“I see it! It’s right there, right?” You brought your arm up right next to Vash’s, sides of your arms touching all the way up to your palms as you traced the line in the sky with your fingertip. Even the metal of his prosthetic was unnaturally warm, just enough to be comfortable, like it was still holding its heat from the evening sun.
“Yeah, you got it!” His cheek was nearly pressed to yours, and you could feel him smile at your success. The excitement was infectious, leaving you feeling floaty and light despite your exhaustion. “Wanna try a few more?”
“Sure! What about up here?” You tipped your head all the way back, staring straight up into the night sky, only to wince at the sharp twang of pain you felt in the back of your neck. “Ow.”
“You okay?” Vash’s face filled your vision, expression soft with concern. You just shrugged, rolling your shoulder and pressing your fingertips into the tense muscle.
“I’m fine, just tweaked my neck a little. The cold just makes all my muscles kind of achey." 
Vash's hand rested on the side of your arm, almost hot to the touch against your chilled skin. How could he possibly run so warm? You wanted to melt into nothing more than a little ball curled up in the palm of his hand, dozing in the pleasant warmth it provided. Meanwhile his eyebrows had flown up his forehead, blinking incredulously at you.
"You're freezing! Why didn't you say anything?" 
"I dunno! I didn't wanna bother you? Besides, I didn't notice until I woke up, anyway!"
He frowned at you, unconsciously jutting out his lower lip in an adorable pout that made your heart stammer in your chest. He made a lot of faces like this, smug little smiles after a trick shot or delighted beaming grins over dinner, even those soft, bittersweet little expressions he'd shoot your way when he thought you weren't looking; faces that made you want to just throw caution to the wind and lean in and kiss him until you both ran hot and breathless.
But you couldn't. Vash liked to joke about how fearless you were, unafraid of tailing after the Humanoid Typhoon through each town and city he blew through, but you weren't that brave. Not enough to risk the possible rejection of the person you cherished most in the world, even if he was under the impression he was doing it for your benefit. No, you were nowhere near that brave. Not yet.
"Maybe you'll just have to share with me then, if you want to keep warm!~"
"Can I?"
You both stiffened, neither of you expecting your response to actually come out of your mouth. Vash was clearly trying to tease you, you could see that now by the wide eyes and startled red fluster on his cheeks, but you'd been so deep in your own thoughts you hadn't even registered it properly until the words were already out of your mouth. You clammed up quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot and prickly as you cupped your hands over it and turned jerkily away from him.
"Ah! Sorry, I didn't- I wasn't really thinking I was just- You know I should have known you were just joking, so… so let's just go back to sleep. Sorry. This is weird… sorry."
You'd definitely said sorry way too many times. And he'd definitely noticed. But maybe he'd actually cut you some slack for once and not point out how effectively you'd just humiliated yourself in front of him. Or maybe you could just roll yourself up in your sleeping bag like a pill bug and in the morning you'd forget this entire exchange even happened.
"...Do you really want to?" He mumbled, warm fingertips resting on your upper arm again and sending a shiver down the length of your spine. He didn't pull away even when you flinched at the contact, voice staying hesitant, small, almost like he was trying to soothe a skittish animal. "I don't want you to freeze or anything. I really don't mind."
"It's not weird?" You'd almost mustered up the courage to ask 'I didn't make things weird?' but you chickened out at the last moment catching a glimpse of Vash's soft expression when peering at him from the corner of your eye.
"No, it's totally fine! I run kind of hot anyway. I can be your heated blanket." Seating himself all the way upright, Vash opened his arms to you, and it took everything you had not to dive into them the second the gesture was offered. 
Trying not to look as eager as you were, you slipped carefully out of your own sleeping bag, shuddering as you were buffeted by the evening air. It was a bit of an awkward clamber, one you tried desperately not to think too hard about as you burrowed your way in right next to Vash. He was a big guy, and the sleeping bag was barely big enough for him to begin with, so once you got yourself situated you found that you were basically snug up against him from your ankles all the way up to your neck. And oh, was it everything you'd imagined to be and more. You were curled up into his right side; he'd tucked you up in such a way that your head was resting right on his shoulder with his arm slung around you, keeping you close. The thin fabric of your pajamas did nothing to quell the heat that rolled off of Vash's body and seeped into your own. It was a familiar, achingly safe kind of warmth, like falling asleep in an afternoon sunbeam coming through the window and landing across a soft mattress. It felt right. It felt like home.
"Comfy?" His voice was so soft a murmur you could barely make it out, and you nodded for fear of any words being let out giving away your true feelings on the situation. How were you ever supposed to sleep on your own again, knowing that this bliss was just within arms reach? "That's good. Hey, try looking up now?"
You blinked up at the night sky, an endless expanse of stars and moons stretched over your heads. His free arm rose again, fingertip tracing an abstract, polygonal form against the starry backdrop.
"Rivus Minor, the Little River. You can follow it across the sky, just like this. Follow my hand, okay?"
"Yeah." You whispered, for you didn't think you had the strength nor the courage to speak any louder. You'd follow his hand as it traced the stars. You'd follow him to the driest, most desperate towns, the true wastelands. You'd follow him through hell and back out again, to the most barren edges of No Man's Land and back, a thousand times over. Even if he tried to leave you behind, for your protection he'd say, for your safety, you wouldn't be able to help but follow. You'd follow him through blood and gun-smoke and tears and keep following beyond. As long as Vash was there, you couldn't help but be there too.
"Okay. I'll follow you."
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raointean · 5 months ago
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Elrond Week Day 7 - Sanctuary and Departure
In which Elrond is stubbornly refusing to speak with his parents after arriving in Valinor and Celebrían has a clever solution.
Celebrían sighed exasperatedly as she noticed Elrond reading his book on their couch, pointedly not looking at the letter-writing materials not five feet away from him. “Are you intending to ignore your parents for the rest of time?”
Elrond hardly even glanced up at her as he responded. “No, of course not. I am simply waiting for them to reach out to me first.”
Celebrían pursed her lips and sank down into a nearby chair. Her husband had been in Valinor nearly a year and a half already; this had gone on long enough. “I do not pretend to know Elwing’s mind,” she began, treading lightly on the delicate subject. “But do you not think it is possible that she may be waiting to see if you even wish to speak to her after all this time? You were very young when you were… separated, and she knows this. Perhaps she is trying to be sensitive of the possibility that you have moved on and is trying to give you space so as not to cause conflict...?” 
The ‘As you so often do?’ in her head remained unsaid.
Elrond shot her a look that told her he would not hear any more on the topic and said nothing. They were so much alike, Celebrían thought to herself, although she knew neither of them would admit it. She had only met Elwing once or twice, but even from that she could identify their similarities. Both of them were stern and intimidating people at first glance. Under Elrond’s commanding exterior lay layers upon layers of kindness and generosity and, while Celebrían did not know Elwing well enough to say the same of her, there was no way anyone could genuinely be that stern.
At both of their cores, however, lay deeply wounded, anxious, and insecure people. Celebrían knew from long experience that, while a certain level of healing was possible, the scars of such wounds stubbornly remained. 
Upon their first meeting at a holiday party in Tirion, Elwing had pulled Celebrían aside as soon as she possibly could and questioned her about Elrond. How he was, what he was like and, most importantly, what his opinions of his mother were. Celebrían, taken aback by her directness and still recovering from her… ordeal, had unfortunately answered honestly: Elrond was occasionally curious about her, but usually changed the subject whenever she came up.
The woman had been heartbroken, but concealed it well. Celebrían had tried to reach out a few times after that, but Elwing had always respectfully declined. Now, Celebrían couldn’t help but feel that their current predicament was her own fault. If she had given a kinder report of Elrond’s feelings about her, perhaps Elwing would have the courage to reach out.
But it was no matter, Celebrían had a plan…
Not two seconds later, there came a knock at the door. Right on time.
Elrond rose from his seat to get the door and Celebrían followed close behind, saying, “That must be the geologist I told you about.”
Celebrían had met many of the elves that lived in their area, including a couple that lived on the far end of the valley. She and the wife, Amaurëa, had become dear friends and soon discovered that their husbands both shared a passion for rock, stones, and minerals. While Elrond’s fascination with such things had remained a hobby, her friend's husband, Elcair, had made a profession of it. 
Though they had been visiting Amaurëa's family for the past two years, Celebrían had invited them to call at their earliest convenience to see what Elrond had brought with him from Middle Earth. It was a giant chest of stone and mineral samples, all meticulously sorted, cleaned, and cared for. Elrond had decided to bring it just in case there were elements in Middle Earth that were not present in Aman. Despite the chest being two feet wide and four feet long, he insisted that he had only brought his favorites. 
Celebrían opened the door to see two elves. One, the woman, short and slender with a flattering green dress. She wore no cloak in the warm spring air. The other, her husband, stood head and shoulders above her, his athletic build honed by centuries of hiking, cliff climbing, and spelunking. He examined the ornately carved doorframe instead of looking Celebrían in the eye. 
“Welcome!” Celebrían cried, reaching out to clasp her friend's hand. “How was your visit? I know you have been missing your mother terribly.”
Amaurëa stepped inside with a courteous smile. “It was wonderful. Ammë is well, and so is my new brother.” 
Her eyes slid to Elrond, standing just behind Celebrían's shoulder and he was quick to introduce himself. “I am Elrond, Cel's husband. It is a pleasure to finally meet one I have heard so much about.”
Amaurëa's smile grew wider at his friendly greeting and Celebrían, who knew her well, could see her relax. “Well met, Elrond. This,” she gestured to her husband who had finished examining the doorway and moved into the hallway, “is my husband, Elcair.”
Elcair nodded to Elrond rather stiffly, looking almost nervous. “Well met.”
He didn't go on so, after half a beat, Celebrían invited Amaurëa to the sitting room. “Come, I think I still have some of your favorite tea blend. I daresay Elrond and Elcair should like to get to their rocks.”
At this, Elcair's eyes visibly brightened, although he tried to conceal it. Elrond also noticed and began leading him to his personal study. “Yes, I think we will,” he said to their wives. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Amaurëa.”
Amaurëa nodded her farewell and followed Celebrían into the sitting room. Celebrían set the tea to steep, inwardly rejoicing that her plan had gone smoothly thus far. 
“How long do you think it will take them to realize?” Amaurëa asked her. She was in on the plan, of course. 
Celebrían glanced in the direction of the study. “As clever as they both are, they are discussing rocks so, it could be some time…”
—----
“Do you think the geology of Middle Earth differs much from that of Valinor?” Elcair asked suddenly as they walked down the hall.
He was an odd elf, Elrond observed. Quiet, blunt, absorbed in his own world; Elrond could respect that, even relate to it at times, but still… odd.
“I am not sure,” Elrond replied, opening his office door and ushering Elcair inside. “I have not traveled widely yet, but what I have seen here in this valley is not at all different from what I am familiar with. Although…” he said thoughtfully. “Are there any volcanoes here?”
Elcair chuckled and shook his head. “Alas, no. I have never had the privilege of seeing them in person. My research on that topic has been limited to accounts of those who have seen them, and discussions with Aulë. He is a fountain of geologic knowledge,” he was quick to clarify, “but he has an unfortunate habit of failing to look at the bigger picture.”
Interesting, Elrond thought to himself. He had not thought that the vala of stone and metallurgy would focus on anything narrowly. Then again, Aulë was the creator of the dwarves…
“You are not missing out on much,” Elrond reassured him, unlocking his chest of geological samples. “I spent much time near the volcano, Oroduin, in Mordor during the War of the Last Alliance. I would be happy to share my observations with you, but I do not recommend going anywhere near an active volcano. It took decades for me to breathe easily again.”
Elcair opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly distracted as Elrond opened the chest. Several shelves unfolded from it: one for sedimentary rocks, one for igneous rocks, one for metamorphic rocks, and two for minerals. 
They were separated by type of course, but their order was… unconventional when compared to most geologists’ collections in Middle Earth. They ordered their samples alphabetically or by density, but Elrond- Elrond ordered his collection by Music.
There was Music in everything the Ainur had created, though few were attuned to it. In fact, Elrond had met no one else but his own son, Elladan, who could hear the music of stone as he could. The igneous rock with its quick tempos and sharp sounds, the metamorphic rock with its melodies that bent this way and that, the sedimentary rock with its slow tempos and melodies that told the stories of a thousand different deaths, the minerals with Songs as varied as the colors in the air.
Elrond could listen to them for an Age if no one disturbed him.
Elcair seemed almost equally enraptured, but he eventually turned to question Elrond. They spoke for nearly an hour of volcanic mechanisms and of the types of stone it produced (Elcair found a particular affinity for obsidian), and Elcair told Elrond of the many advances he had made in examining sedimentary samples; separating them out and identifying them one bit at a time.
Eventually, during a lull in the conversation, Elrond asked him a personal question. “When did your family come to Valinor?”
It was entirely possible that he had been born in Valinor, but with a Sindarin name like “Elcair,” his family almost certainly had its roots in Middle Earth or Beleriand.
Elcair gave him a strange look, almost meeting his eyes. “Do you not know?”
That was… an odd response. Elrond did not know who he was related to, although perhaps it was a well known family, but Elcair had not mentioned any family name. “Apologies, I do not. I do not know your family name, and your given name only tells me that you are likely Sindarin or Silvan.”
Slowly, carefully, as if explaining a simple concept to a child who should know better, Elcair said, “My mother is Elwing and my father is Eärendil…”
Oh, oh. Of course! Elwing and Eärendil had been very young when they had fled Beleriand; Elrond had always known that. They had been young and in love and had lost the chance to raise their children; it made sense that they would try again.
In a way, Elrond was happy for them. Happy that they had been able to move on with their lives after everything that had happened, everything they had been through. Alongside that, though, an ancient pit of bitterness reopened in his chest at the thought that they had been able to move on from him.
As soon as that feeling bubbled up into his mind, he tried to push it away. It wasn’t fair to them and it wasn’t helpful to him. He had lived well over six-thousand years without them and become a powerful and well-respected man, loved by many. That would not change, regardless of what his parents thought of him.
“So, Celebrían did not tell you?” Elcair asked tentatively. He seemed anxious, worried that he had offended Elrond.
“No- No, she did not.” This whole time, she had known. Known and said nothing! And yet, Elrond could not find it within himself to be angry with her. He had been stubborn in his refusal to speak to his family, he knew, and if she had mentioned a brother, Elrond knew he would have refused to see him as well.
“You… are my brother, then?” Elrond mused.
Elcair nodded, almost shy now. “Yes, and we have a sister between us, Elinn. I thought you knew about her, but since you did not know that you and I were brothers…”
His rambling trailed off as Elrond tried to digest all of the new information. He was an older brother, with two younger siblings. His parents had had two new children after losing their first two. Even if he did reach out to them now, what sort of place would he have in that family? That of a bastard son with no ties but blood?
As if sensing his turmoil, Elcair picked up an oolitic limestone sample and pressed it into Elrond’s palm. It was highly textured, but the ooids themselves were smooth. More than that, its music was soothing like- well, like sediments coalescing in ocean currents. It brought him back to the present.
Staring at his shoes, Elcair asked, “So, since Celebrían did not ask me here at your behest, may I ask- Why have you not reached out to us yet?
Elrond sighed, examining the limestone in his hand. What he wouldn’t give to be an ooid right now; just a tiny ball of calcium floating in the sea. Things would be so much simpler. “I only knew Elwing- our mother - for the first six years of my life, most of which I cannot remember. Our father, I knew for even less time, and I did not know of you and Elinn’s existence until just now. I fear that forcing myself into… your family- I would simply take up space that isn’t there.”
Elcair looked over at him sharply, though Elrond did not meet his gaze. “Do not say that! Nana has been more anxious than I have ever seen her from the moment we got news of your ship. As soon as Atto returned from his sky-voyage at the beginning of last spring, he was much the same. Elinn has been urging Nana constantly to stop waiting for you to reach out and just write first herself because she wants so desperately to meet you! And I-”
He halted before going on, as if admitting some long-kept secret. “I have been wondering what you would be like ever since I first heard your name. For decades- centuries, I have listened at the docks for news and stories of you. I cobbled together an image of what my older brother might be like and, for a very long time, you have been my greatest role model, even though I have never met you.”
A breath of silence passed between them. Elrond could hardly believe that he had played so large a role in the life of someone he had never met. He knew that he was in history books and there were likely people who looked up to him based on their readings, but never so personally. 
Elcair wasn’t finished. “I never even dared to hope that you would share my passion for stone, however much I idolized you. I- There has always been room in our family for you, Elrond.”
Elrond was nearly overcome. He had only just begun to process the fact that he had siblings (siblings! plural!) and this was just too much. So, he pushed his feelings aside for later, focused on the feeling of ooids in his hand, and fell back on learned politeness. 
“I-” he was forced to pause and clear his throat, his voice was clogged with emotion. “I am sorry for not writing sooner.”
Elcair patted his hand, also feeling awkward and off balance after his burst of emotion. “It is no matter now. We have all the time in the world, after all.”
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